acocella, a few too many. 1

Alcohol was also one of our ancestors’ foremost medicines. Berton Roueché, in a 1960 article on alcohol for The New Yorker, quoted a prominent fifteenth-century German physician, Hieronymus Brunschwig, on the range of physical ills curable by brandy: head sores, pallor, baldness, deafness, lethargy, toothache, mouth cankers, bad breath, swollen breasts, short-windedness, indigestion, flatulence, jaundice, dropsy, gout, bladder infections, kidney stones, fever, dog bites, and infestation with lice or fleas.

Joan, ‘Is there a cure for alcohol hangovers?’

bradbury, the illustrated man. 1

It showed a crowd of freaks bending over a dying fat man on a dark and lonely road, looking at a tattoo on his back which illustrated a crowd of freaks bending over a dying fat man on a . . .

In Esquire, 1950.

truffaut, is truffaut the happiest man on earth? yes. 1

I am the happiest man in the world and here’s why: I walk down a street and I see a woman, not tall but well-proportioned, very dark-haired, very neat in her dress, wearing a dark skirt with deep pleats that swing with the rhythm of her rather quick steps; her stockings, of dark color, are carefully, impeccably smooth; her face is not smiling, this woman walks down the street without trying to please, as if she were unconscious of what she represented: a good carnal image of woman, a physical image, more than a sexy image, a sexual image.

Article in Esquire, 1970.

broyles, why men love war. 1

Part of the love of war stems from its being an experience of great intensity; its lure is the fundamental human passion to witness, to see things, what the Bible calls the lust of the eye and the Marines in Vietnam called eye fucking.

Article in Esquire, November 1984.
http://www.wsu.edu/~hughesc/why_men_love_war.htm

bolaño, 2666. 2

No pátio quadriculado chovia, o céu quadriculado parecia o ricto de um robô ou de um deus feito à nossa semelhança, no gramado do parque as oblíquas gotas de chuva deslizavam  para baixo, mas daria no mesmo se deslizassem para cima, depois as oblíquas (gotas) se transformavam em circulares (gotas) que eram tragadas pela terra que sustentava o gramado, o gramado e a terra pareciam conversar, não, conversar não, discutir, e suas palavras ininteligíveis eram como teias de aranha cristalizadas ou brevíssimos vômitos cristalizados, um rangido apenas audível, como se Norton, em vez de chá preto, naquela tarde houvesse tomado chá de peiote.

A PARTE DOS CRÍTICOS, pág. 21. Norton após ler primeiro romance arrebatador de Archimboldi.

bolaño, 2666. 1

Primeiro, pensou na loucura. Na possibilidade, alta, de que estivesse ficando louco. Surpreendeu-se ao se dar conta de que esse pensamento (e essa possibilidade) não reduzia em nada seu entusiasmo. Nem sua alegria. (…)
e a situação não lhe pareceu tão má.

A PARTE DE AMALFITANO, pág. 211