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1 " I would have stolen it for you, had I known you were interested." His voice was muffled by the door to the lumber room down the hallway, and I heard thumps and a crash.I raised my voice a trifle more than mere volume required. " I'm interested because she was. Both of them, come to that--Damian's art is infused with mystic symbols and traditions." Holmes' voice answered two inches away from my ear, making me jerk and spray a handful of maps across the floor. " Religion can be a dangerous thing, it is true," he remarked darkly, and went out again. "
2 " You can't reason with your heart; it has its own laws, and thumps about things which the intellect scorns. "
― Mark Twain , A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
3 " Would my head were a head of lettuce. I drove the last car over the Sagamore Bridge before the state police closed it off. The Cape Cod Canal all atempest beneath. No cars coming, no cars going. The bridge cables flapping like rubber bands. You think in certain circumstances a few thousand feet of bridge isn’t a thousand miles? The hurricane wiped out Dennis. Horace thanked God for insurance. I saved our little girl. You want me to say, Hurrah! Hurrah! but I can’t, I won’t, because to save her once isn’t to save her, and still she thumps as if the world was something thumpable. As if it wasn’t silence on a fundamental level. Yap on, wife, yap on. Thump, daughter, thump. Louder, Orangutan, louder. I can’t hear you. "
― Peter Orner , Last Car Over the Sagamore Bridge
4 " my master is the same as godwhen he thumps with his handpeople bring us hamburg steaksat any eating stand " pete s holiday "
5 " So now I lye by Day and toss or rave by Night, since the ratling and perpetual Hum of the Town deny me rest: just as Madness and Phrensy are the vapours which rise from the lower Faculties, so the Chaos of the Streets reaches up even to the very Closet here and I am whirl'd about by cries of Knives to Grind and Here are your Mouse-Traps. I was last night about to enter the Shaddowe of Rest when a Watch-man, half-drunken, thumps at the Door with his Past Three-a-clock and his Rainy Wet Morning. And when at length I slipp'd into Sleep I had no sooner forgot my present Distemper than I was plunged into a worse: I dreamd my self to be lying in a small place under ground, like unto a Grave, and my Body was all broken while others sung. And there was a Face that did so terrifie me that I had like to have expired in my Dream. Well, I will say no more. "
― Peter Ackroyd , Hawksmoor
