Tags » John Cheever

lust, ambition and nostalgia

Hanging plants, Farragut thought, were the beloved of the truly lonely—those men and women who, burning with lust, ambition and nostalgia, watered their hanging plants. They cultivated their hanging plants and he guessed that they talked to them since they talked to everything else—doors, tables and the wind up the chimney.

John Cheever, Falconer

Literature

dynamite right in his guts

Long ago when they first invented the atomic bomb people used to worry about its going off and killing everybody, but they didn’t know that mankind has got enough dynamite right in his guts to tear the fucking planet to pieces. 6 more words

Literature

sailing catboats and kites

The contrite geometry of grass-cutting pleased him. To cut the grass one followed the contour of the land. To study the contour of the land—to read it as one did on skis—was to study and read the contour of the neighborhood, the county, the state, the continent, the planet, and to study and read the contour of the planet was to study and read the nature of its winds as his old father had done, sailing catboats and kites. 9 more words

Literature

I’ve had one

“I’ve had one,” said Farragut, “but I didn’t take it up the ass. When I die you can put on my headstone: ‘Here lies Ezekiel Farragut, who never took it up the ass.”’

John Cheever, Falconer

Literature

Do you still dream about your blonde?

Do you still dream about your blonde? You do, of course; that I can easily see. Don’t you understand that she never existed, Zeke, and that she never will? 42 more words

Literature

This miserable wetness

He remembered the panic he had experienced as a boy when he found his trousers, his hands and his shirttails soaked with crystallizing gism. He had learned from the Boy Scout Handbook that his prick would grow as long and thin as a shoelace, and that the juice that had poured out of his crack was the cream of his brain power. 28 more words

Literature