The Tower, and other pieces - 11. Maxims and other fragments IV

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The lost sex scene from Bound & Bound:

SILVIU: You know I ain't gonna pull out.

EMERIC: I don’t want you to.

SILVIU: So, what do you want?

EMERIC: (swallows) You – all of you – your essence to the last drop.

SILVIU: And where do you want it?

EMERIC: I want it shot straight to my heart; I want to see it like shooting stars falling on my brain, etching the inside of my tightly closed eyelids. Silviu—

SILVIU: One more question, Em. Why? Why do you want this?

EMERIC: (mouth agape) Simple. Because I fucking love you with all my mind and heart, and because you are my man.

SILVIU: Fuck yeah. I am your man, and you are mine – all mine. You'll see your shooting stars, babe. You'll see a fucking galaxy of my love for you in your soul when I cum way up you. You'll see; I promise.

"In the art of writing,

the absence of mistakes

is not the presence of quality."

"War persists because

it's cheaper than peace.

It's also easier."

"…The difference between

'comedy' and 'tragedy'?

Comedy happens to others,

and tragedy only to yourself."

"No knowledge is useless,

even the stuff

that happens to be useless."

"Max mouthed a tennis ball, and nuzzled my crotch with it gently. His huge brown eyes assessed my face frankly as I sat on his sofa. He glanced fleetingly at the parakeet to my right side, then back to me. Max was the father, or to use the correct term, the sire of the Airedale puppy we were there to meet and potentially adopt. Max, whose full name I was to later learn from his pedigree papers was Max What-a-Boy Kissel, stood in front of me a seemingly Genesis-sized giant – well over 120 pounds and proportioned as a small calf might be. His ears were perfect folded handkerchiefs; silky coin purse on the outside and a flush healthy pink on the inside. Now with the ball in his mouth, his mouth in my crotch, the ears rode the back of his head in the classic expression of formal appraisal. He was interviewing me. Doing so to assure himself I was worthy of his issue – what type of person was I?"

[Excerpt from Walks with Leporello, Thoughts on Love, God and Dog]

"The eternal struggle of man

is between who he is,

and what his potential can be."

"If common sense were common,

we wouldn't need philosophers."

"If common sense were common,

we wouldn't have politicians."

"A thing of beauty is a thing understood."

"On that first Sunday, walking around the block, we encountered a setback for one of those ubiquitous San Francisco garage doors. Because the full side of the neighboring building came out to the sidewalk, a mini vortex would sometimes arise. This day, the dried and fallen – but still beautifully crimson – pedals of the bougainvillea growing next to the garage door were puddled on the driveway. As we came by, a gust of wintry wind swirled in the garage niche and picked up the flower petals into a sparkling tornado. Leppy jumped right into the middle of it as carefree as a kid jumping into a ball vat. He glanced at me momentarily, like he was wondering why I didn’t join him in the midst of so much fun. At the moment, mine were the worries; his was the pure un-alloyed fun of living full in the present. He invited me, but could I not go? No. But as I stood there and watched, I felt that this young dog, whether he lived long or short, would like nothing so much as to be hoisted by the wind, and spun with the red papery triangles as far up as they could carry him."

[Excerpt from Walks with Leporello, Thoughts on Love, God and Dog]

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