Lunar Park (Vintage Contemporaries)

“You ever read that old bugger Nietzsche?” he asked. “A little,” I said. “You know what he said about love? Said it’s a state where we see things widely different from what they are.” “Pauline?” “Yup. It didn’t take long to unsee those things. I guess it started when we went to live with her folks in Piggott.

I’m at another club, Rampage (but pronounce it French), and I find a pseudo-hot-looking Valley bitch and she seems really slow and stupid like she’s completely stoned or drunk or something but she’s got great tits and a pretty hot body, not too heavy, maybe a little too skinny, and basically her emptiness thrills me.

smoky yellow bistros—of these last, some so small that they were little more than diamond shaped, enclosed corners holding bottles and a zinc-covered counter. At all these points, men, young, old, middle-aged, powerful, powerful even in the various fashions in which they had met, or were meeting, their various ruin; and women, more than making up,