Anxiety

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  The Book of Habakkuk Habakkuk 1 Chaldeans Used to Punish Judah 1 T he a oracle (a burdensome message—a pronouncement from God) which Habakkuk the prophet saw. 2 O LORD , how long will I call for help And You will not hear? I cry out to You, “Violence!” Yet You do not save. 3 Why do You make me see iniquity, And cause me to look on wickedness? For destruction and violence are before me; Strife continues and contention arises. 4 Therefore, the law is ineffective and ignored And justice is never upheld, For the wicked surround the righteous; Therefore, justice becomes perverted. 5 [The LORD replied,] “Look among the nations! See! Be astonished! Wonder! For I am doing something in your days— You would not believe it if you were told. [Acts 13:40 , 41 ] 6 “For behold, I am raising up the b Chaldeans [who rule in c Babylon], That fierce and impetuous nation Who march throughout the earth To take possession of dwelling places that do not belong to them. [2 Kin 24:2 ] 7 “The Chaldeans are dreaded and feared; Their justice and authority originate with themselves and are defined only by their decree. 8 “Their horses are swifter than leopards And keener than [hungry] wolves in the evening, Their horsemen come galloping, Their horsemen come from far away; They fly like an eagle swooping down to devour. 9 “They all come for violence; Their horde of faces moves [eagerly] forward, They gather prisoners like sand. 10 “They make fun of kings And rulers are a laughing matter to them. They ridicule every stronghold And heap up rubble [for earth mounds] and capture it. 11 “Then they will sweep by like the wind and pass on. But they will be held guilty, They [and all men] whose own power and strength is their god.” 12 Are You not from everlasting, O LORD , my God, My Holy One? We will not die. O LORD , You have appointed the Chaldeans [who rule in Babylon] to execute [Your] judgment, And You, O Rock, have established them to correct and chastise. [Deut 32:4 ] 13 Your eyes are too pure to approve evil, And You cannot look favorably on wickedness. Why then do You look favorably On those who act treacherously? Why are you silent when the wicked (Chaldean oppressors) destroy Those more righteous than they? 14 Why do You make men like the fish of the sea, Like reptiles and creeping things that have no ruler [and are helpless against their enemies]? 15 The Chaldeans bring all of them up with a hook, And drag them away with a net, And gather them together in their fishing net; So they rejoice and are glad. 16 Therefore, they offer sacrifices to their net And burn incense to their fishing net; Because through these things their catch is large and they live luxuriously, And their food is plentiful.

• From Lady Chatterley's Lover (1928)

  "You must have a nurse or somebody, to look after you personally. You should really have a manservant," said Hilda as they sat, with apparent calmness, at coffee after dinner. She spoke in her soft, seemingly gentle way, but Clifford felt she was hitting him on the head with a bludgeon. "You think so?" he said coldly. "I'm sure! It's necessary. Either that, or father and I must take Connie away for some months. This can't go on." "What can't go on?" "Haven't you looked at the child?" asked Hilda, gazing at him full stare. He looked rather like a huge, boiled crayfish, at the moment; or so she thought. "Connie and I will discuss it," he said. "I've already discussed it with her," said Hilda. Clifford had been long enough in the hands of nurses; he hated them, because they left him no real privacy. And a manservant! ... he couldn't stand a man hanging round him. Almost better any woman. But why not Connie? The two sisters drove off in the morning, Connie looking rather like an Easter lamb, rather small beside Hilda, who held the wheel. Sir Malcolm was away, but the Kensington house was open. The doctor examined Connie carefully, and asked her all about her life. "I see your photograph, and Sir Clifford's, in the illustrated papers sometimes. Almost notorieties, aren't you? That's how the quiet little girls grow up, though you're only a quiet little girl even now, in spite of the illustrated papers. No, no! There's nothing organically wrong, but it won't do! it won't do! Tell Sir Clifford he's got to bring you to town, or take you abroad, and amuse you. You've got to be amused, got to! Your vitality is much too low; no reserves, no reserves. The nerves of the heart a bit queer already: oh, yes! Nothing but nerves; I'd put you right in a month at Cannes or Biarritz. But it mustn't go on, _mustn't_, I tell you, or I won't be answerable for consequences. You're spending your life without renewing it. You've got to be amused, properly, healthily amused. You're spending your vitality without making any. Can't go on, you know. Depression! avoid depression!" Hilda set her jaw, and that meant something.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  [Gen 3:19 ; Job 30:19 ] 28 “If five of the fifty righteous are lacking, will You destroy the entire city for lack of five?” And He said, “If I find [at least] forty-five [righteous people] there, I will not destroy it.” 29 Abraham spoke to Him yet again and said, “Suppose [only] forty are found there.” And He said, “I will not do it for the sake of the forty [who are righteous].” 30 Then Abraham said [to Him], “Oh, may the Lord not be angry, and I will speak; suppose thirty [righteous people] are found there?” And He said, “I will not do it if I find thirty there.” 31 And he said, “Now behold, I have decided to speak to the Lord [again]. Suppose [only] twenty [righteous people] are found there?” And the Lord said, “I will not destroy it for the sake of the twenty.” 32 Then Abraham said, “Oh may the Lord not be angry [with me], and I will speak only this once; suppose ten [righteous people] are found there?” And He said, “I will not destroy it for the sake of the ten.” 33 As soon as He had finished speaking with Abraham the LORD departed, and Abraham returned to his own place. Genesis 19 The Doom of Sodom 1 I T WAS evening when the two angels came to Sodom. Lot was sitting at Sodom’s [a city] gate. Seeing them, Lot got up to meet them and bowed down with his face to the ground. 2 And he said, “See here, my lords, please turn aside and come into your servant’s house, and spend the night, and wash your feet; then you may get up early and go on your way.” But they said, “No, we shall spend the night in the open plaza [of the city].” 3 However, Lot strongly urged them, so they turned aside and entered his house; and he prepared a feast for them [with wine], and baked unleavened bread, and they ate. 4 But before they lay down [to sleep], the men of the city, the men of Sodom, both young and old, surrounded the house, b all the men from every quarter; 5 and they called out to Lot and said to him, “Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us so that we may know them [intimately].” 6 But Lot went out of the doorway to the men, and shut the door after him, 7 and said, “Please, my brothers, do not do something so wicked.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  [I cannot understand Your purpose!] 23 “Ever since I came to Pharaoh to speak in Your name, he has harmed and oppressed this people, and You have done nothing at all to rescue Your people.” Exodus 6 God Promises Action 1 T HEN THE LORD said to Moses, “Now you shall see what I will do to Pharaoh; for a under compulsion he will [not only] let them go, but under compulsion he will drive them out of his land.” 2 Then God spoke further to Moses and said to him, “I am the LORD . [Ex 3:14 ] 3 “I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob (Israel) as God Almighty [El Shaddai], but by My b name, c LORD , I did not make Myself known to them [in acts and great miracles]. [Gen 17:1 ] 4 “I also established My covenant with them, to give them the land of Canaan, the land in which they lived as strangers (temporary residents, foreigners). [Gen 12:1–3 ; 13:14–17 ; 15:18–21 ; 17:19 ; 26:3 , 4 ; 28:13 ] 5 “And I have also heard the groaning of the sons of Israel, whom the Egyptians have enslaved, and I have [faithfully] remembered My covenant [with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob]. 6 “Therefore, say to the children of Israel, ‘I am the LORD , and I will bring you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians, and I will free you from their bondage. I will redeem and rescue you with an outstretched (vigorous, powerful) arm and with great acts of judgment [against Egypt]. 7 ‘Then I will take you for My people, and I will be your God; and you shall know that I am the LORD your God, who redeemed you and brought you out from under the burdens of the Egyptians. 8 ‘I will bring you to the land which I d swore to give to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (Israel); and I will give it to you as a possession. I am the LORD [you have the promise of My changeless omnipotence and faithfulness].’ ” 9 Moses told this to the Israelites, but they did not listen to him because of their e impatience and despondency, and because of their forced labor. 10 The LORD spoke to Moses, saying, 11 “Go, tell Pharaoh king of Egypt to let the children of Israel go out of his land.” 12 But Moses said to the LORD , “Look, [my own people] the Israelites have not listened to me; so how then will Pharaoh listen to me, for I am f unskilled and inept in speech?” 13 Then the LORD spoke to Moses and Aaron, and gave them a command concerning the Israelites and Pharaoh king of Egypt, to bring the Israelites out of the land of Egypt. The Heads of Israel 14 These are the heads of their fathers’ households.

• From The Incendiaries (2018)

  I licked fingers; I grabbed fistfuls of made-up skin until, sometimes, when I saw the girl in the flesh, she looked as implausible as all the Phoebes I’d dreamed into being. – I pushed through a revolving door into the Colonial: a private club, college-affiliated. She’d invited me to have a drink. One last date, I’d resolved. With Phoebe, I kept spending time I didn’t have. I rushed from classes to Michelangelo’s, an Italian restaurant fifteen miles from Noxhurst’s town limits—distant enough, I hoped, that no fellow students would walk in. I took the bus. I waited tables; I relied on staff meals. I filched apples from the Edwards dining hall. I received scholarship funding, but not enough. I told no one. She was sitting alone at the bar, back facing out. I touched the girl’s waist, and she slipped down from the stool. Phoebe’s smile, angling up, floated toward me. She asked the bow-tied barkeep, Bix, to bring me a gimlet. You’ll love it, Will, she said. Bix makes, no joke, the world’s best gimlets. He puts something extra in. I’ve asked, but he won’t tell me what it is. If it was my recipe to give, I would, he said. I believed him. It was obvious he liked Phoebe. She asked how I was, and I said I’d passed a man playing the fiddle while I walked here. I’d paused, to listen. I had no small bills, so I’d put quarters in his upside-down hat. Oh, ho, he said. It’s high-rolling time. It’s like jingle bells tonight. He threw out the coins, I said, to Phoebe. I forced a smile, but I hadn’t told the story well. I’d tried to help him. Six quarters, which he’d thrown to the ground, like nothing. If I could just tell him as a gag, I’d negate his ridicule. But then, as though she heard the version I intended, Phoebe obliged me, and laughed. She asked what I’d said next. I rattled along. I was pleased; unsettled, too. It was odd, how well she listened. It made me anxious I’d reveal more than I should. When I could, I turned the questions: an old evangelist’s trick. In general, people love talking about themselves. If, at times, with Phoebe, I felt a slight resistance, I pushed through. It’s my first time in the Colonial, I said. I asked if she came here often. She explained the club’s rituals and traditions, its complicated drinking-cup rules. A ghost-white candle stub guttered between us. I kept asking questions. I liked watching Phoebe talk. She halted, circled the point. Lit up with her own stories, she laughed in big gusts that blew out the candle flame. Bix relit it; before long, she put it out again. You pass the cup around until it’s finished, she said. The last person to drink upends it on his head.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  She forgot to inquire about Angela’s dog-bite, though the bandaged hand was placed on a cushion; and she also forgot to adjust her new necktie, which in her emotion had slipped slightly crooked. A thousand times in the last few days had she carefully rehearsed this scene of their meeting, making up long and elab- orate speeches; assuming, in her mind, many dignified poses; and yet there she sat on the edge of a chair as though it were the Prickly Cradle. And now Angela was speaking in her soft, Southern drawl: ‘ So you’ve found your way here at last,’ she was saying. And then, after a pause: ‘I’m so glad, Miss Gordon, do you know that your coming has given me real pleasure? ’ Stephen said: ‘ Yes — oh, yes—’ Then fell silent again, ap- parently intent on the carpet. ‘Have I dropped my cigarette ash or something? ’ inquired her hostess. whose mouth twitched a little. 154 THE WELL OF LONELINESS ‘I don’t think so, murmured Stephen, pretending to look, then glancing up sideways at the impudent bullfinch. The bullfinch was now being sentimental; he piped very low and with great expression. ‘O, Tannebaum, O, Tannebaum, wie grün sind Deine Blatter ’ he piped, hopping rather heavily from perch to perch, with one beady black orb fixed on Stephen. Then Angela said: ‘It’s a curious thing, but I feel as though I’ve known you for ages. I don’t want to behave as though we were strangers — do you think that’s very American of me? Ought I to be formal and stand-offish and British? I will if you say so, but I don’t feel British.’ And her voice, although quite steady and grave, was somehow distinctly suggestive of laughter. Stephen lifted troubled eyes to her face: ‘I want. very much to be your friend if you'll have me,’ she said; and then she flushed deeply. Angela held out her undamaged hand which Stephen took, but in great trepidation. Barely had it lain in her own for a mo- ment, when she clumsily gave it back to its owner. Then Angela looked at her hand. Stephen thought: ‘Have I done something rude or awk- ward?’ And her heart thumped thickly against her side. She wanted to retrieve the lost hand and stroke it, but unfortunately it was now stroking Tony. She sighed, and Angela, hearing that sigh, glanced up, as though in inquiry. The butler arrived bringing in the tea. “Sugar? ’ asked Angela. ‘ No, thanks,’ said Stephen; then she suddenly changed her mind, ‘ three lumps, please,’ she had always detested tea without sugar. The tea was too hot; it burnt her mouth badly. She grew scarlet and her eyes began to water. To cover her confusion she swallowed more tea, while Angela looked tactfully out of the window. But when she considered it safe to turn round, her ex- pression, although still faintly amused, had something about it that was tender.

• From Hot Rods: Gay Erotic Stories (2011)

  Title : Hot Rods: Gay Erotic Stories Author: Laurence, Sean [image file=image_8.jpg] Table of Contents Title Page FRISK CHROME-OBSESSED URBAN COWBOYS THE BIG HOMO DADDY’S GUIDE TO LOVEMAKING BETWEEN SHOTS FIRED SANDHOGS ABOUT THE AUTHORS Copyright Page [image file=image_39.jpg] FRISK Hank Edwards I sat nervously in the conference room surrounded by my partners in law and, unfortunately, crime. A slick bead of sweat ran from my armpit to the waistband of my boxers, leaving behind a track of moisture that brought on a shiver. “What’s the matter, Zack?” asked the senior partner, George, narrowing his gray eyes in my direction. “Caught a chill?” I shrugged as nonchalantly as possible considering the situation. “Goose walked over my grave, I guess.” The seven men surrounding the fine oak conference table chuckled quietly. All of us had conspired to hide certain business transactions from the government. Now I found myself involved in a sting operation to save my hairy hide and rat out my partners. Oh, what a tangled web we weave. A few months ago the state’s attorney had shown up on my doorstep along about midnight. Midnight visitors are never good, and this one had lived up to that promise. I opened the door to a full-court press and after several hours of talks I agreed to turn state’s evidence against the other partners in my law firm. The state’s attorney had approached me because I was the newest member of the partners’ roster and could ask the many questions that needed to be answered on tape without raising much suspicion. For this effort, I would receive a reduced sentence in a white-collar prison and lose my license to practice law. Hey, what a deal, right? I now wore a small transmitter and microphone to every encounter I had with any of the partners. I had been doing it for several weeks, but at each meeting I felt as nervous as the first time. Would I screw up somehow and blow the whole operation? Then where would I be? Each time I wore the transmitter I had to go through a certain procedure. It was placed on different areas of my body depending on the type of meeting: golf, conference room, travel by car or rail, that kind of thing. With two other witnesses in the office, one of the agents would meet me just before I was to leave for the appointment and tape the transmitter to my waist, back or leg. This required me to partially disrobe, a fact that forced me to start wearing boxers to better hide the fact that I was usually sporting a partial hard-on. I don’t know where they found the field agents for this assignment, but I want a two-week vacation to that place.

• From Lady Chatterley's Lover (1928)

  "We too have had our mild local excitement. It appears the truant wife of Mellors, the keeper, turned up at the cottage, and found herself unwelcome. He packed her off and locked the door. Report has it, however, that when he returned from the wood he found the no longer fair lady firmly established in his bed, in _puris naturalibu_; or one should say, in _impuris naturalibus_. She had broken a window and got in that way. Unable to evict the somewhat manhandled Venus from his couch, he beat a retreat and retired, it is said, to his mother's house in Tevershall. Meanwhile the Venus of Stacks Gate is established in the cottage, which she claims is her home, and Apollo, apparently, is domiciled in Tevershall. "I repeat this from hearsay, as Mellors has not come to me personally. I had the particular bit of local garbage from our garbage bird, our ibis, our scavenging turkey-buzzard, Mrs. Bolton. I would not have repeated it had she not exclaimed: her Ladyship will go no more to the wood if _that_ woman's going to be about! "I like your picture of Sir Malcolm striding into the sea with white hair blowing and pink flesh glowing. I envy you that sun. Here it rains. But I don't envy Sir Malcolm his inveterate mortal carnality. However, it suits his age. Apparently one grows more carnal and more mortal as one grows older. Only youth has a taste of immortality." This news affected Connie in her state of semi-stupefied well-being with vexation amounting to exasperation. Now she had got to be bothered by that beast of a woman! Now she must start and fret! She had no letter from Mellors. They had agreed not to write at all, but now she wanted to hear from him personally. After all, he was the father of the child that was coming. Let him write! But how hateful! Now everything was messed up. How foul those low people were! How nice it was here, in the sunshine and the indolence, compared to that dismal mess of that English midlands! After all, a clear sky was almost the most important thing in life. She did not mention the fact of her pregnancy, even to Hilda. She wrote to Mrs. Bolton for exact information. Duncan Forbes, an artist, friend of theirs, had arrived at the Villa Esmeralda, coming north from Rome. Now he made a third in the gondola, and he bathed with them across the lagoon, and was their escort: a quiet, almost taciturn young man, very advanced in his art. She had a letter from Mrs. Bolton: "You will be pleased, I am sure, my Lady, when you see Sir Clifford. He's looking quite blooming and working very hard, and very hopeful. Of course he is looking forward to seeing you among us again. It is a dull house without my Lady, and we shall all welcome her presence among us once more.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  ‘ What am I to think?’ Then because of her longing, ‘ An- gela, for God’s sake don’t treat me like this—I can’t bear it. When you loved me it was easier to bear — I endured it for your sake, but now —listen, listen. . . .” Stark naked confessions THE WELL OF LONELINESS 209 dragged from lips that grew white the while they confessed: TAnedlas-hsteny |, 26 And now the terrible nerves of the invert, those nerves that are always lying in wait, gripped Stephen. They ran like live _ wires through her body, causing a constant and ruthless torment, so that the sudden closing of a door or the barking of Tony would fall like a blow on her shrinking flesh. At night in her bed she must cover her ears from the ticking of the clock, which would sound like thunder in the darkness. Angela had taken to going up to London on some pretext or another — she must see her dentist; she must fit a new dress. ‘ Well then, let me come with you.’ “Good heavens, why? I’m only going to the dentist! ’ * All right, I'll come too.’ “You'll do nothing of the kind.’ Then Stephen would know why Angela was going. All that day she would be haunted by insufferable pictures. Whatever she did, wherever she went, she would see them to- gether, Angela and Roger. . . . She would think: ‘I’m going mad! I can see them as clearly as though they were here before me in the room.’ And then she would cover her eyes with her hands, but this would only strengthen the pictures. Like some earth-bound spirit she would haunt The Grange on the pretext of taking Tony for a walk. And there, as likely as not, would be Ralph wandering about in his bare rose garden. He would glance up and see her perhaps, and then — most pro- found shame of all — they would both look guilty, for each would know the loneliness of the other, and that loneliness would draw them together for the moment; they would be almost friends in their hearts. ‘ Angela’s gone up to London, Stephen.’ ‘ Yes, I know. She’s gone up to fit her new dress.’ Their eyes would drop. Then Ralph might say sharply: ‘If you're after the dog, he’s in the kitchen,’ and turning his back, he might make a pretence of examining his standard rose-trees. Calling Tony, Stephen would walk into Upton, then along 210 THE WELL OF LONELINESS the mist-swept bank of the river. She would stand very still staring down at the water, but the impulse would pass, and whistling the dog, she would turn and go hurrying back to Upton.

• From Girls & Sex (2016)

  Brumberg’s book was published in the late 1990s, a good decade before social media took off. With the advent of MySpace, then Facebook, then Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, Tumblr, Tinder, YikYak, and—mark my words—some social media–linked microchip that they’ll soon implant in all our heads, the body has become even more entrenched as the ultimate expression of the female self, evolving from “project” to consciously marketed “product.” There are myriad ways social media can be fun, creative, connective, political. They can be a lifeline for kids who feel different from their peers, particularly LGBTQ teens, providing them with crucial support and community. They have also reinforced the relentless externalization of girls’ sense of self. There is evidence that the more concerned a girl is about her appearance, weight, and body image, the more likely she is to consult the magic mirror of her social media profile, and vice versa: the more she checks her profile, the more concerned she becomes about appearance, weight, and body image. Comments on girls’ pages, too, tend to focus disproportionately on looks, and even more than in the real world, that becomes a measure of friendship, self-image, and self-worth. In a windowless basement office on a private midwestern college campus, Sarah, a first-semester sophomore, stood in front of me with the toes of one foot pointed forward, one knee slightly bent, to demonstrate the “leg bevel”—a pose pioneered by showgirls but which is now standard in girls’ social media photos. “It slims your body more than if you stand normally,” she explained. Sarah grew up in Atlanta, where she attended a small Christian high school. She had dyed blond hair that hung to her shoulders, blue eyes, and carefully applied makeup—foundation, eye shadow, lipstick. “People will”—she stopped and laughed self-consciously—“this is so stupid, but people will learn the ways to pose in pictures so they’ll look good on Facebook or Instagram. I mean, I do it. A hand on your hip—that makes you look thinner, too. Or, whichever side you part your hair on, the other side would be your ‘better’ side, so I try to face this way in photos.” She turned her right cheek toward me and continued. “I edit little blemishes out and fix the lighting. And if you watch things like America’s Next Top Model, you learn to ‘find your light.’ Things like that.”

• From Delta of Venus (1977)

  So, in a state of fever and high tension, Lilith went to fetch Mabel. She did not dare confess what her husband had done to her. She remembered all the stories that she had heard about Spanish fly. In the eighteenth century in France, men had made great use of it. She remembered the story of a certain aristocrat who, at the age of forty, when he was already a little weary from his assiduous lovemaking to all the attractive women of his time, fell so violently in love with a dancer who was only twenty years old that he spent three full days and nights with her in sexual intercourse—with the help of Spanish fly. Lilith tried to imagine what such an experience might be, how it would take her at some unexpected moment and she would have to run home and confess her desire to her husband. As she sat in the darkened cinema, she could not watch the screen. Her head was in chaos. She sat taut on the edge of her seat, trying to sense the effects of the drug. She pulled herself up with a start when she noticed first of all that she had sat with her legs far apart, her skirt up on her knees. She thought this was an expression of her already growing sexual fever. She tried to remember whether she had ever sat in this position before at the movies. She saw the parted legs as the most obscene position ever imagined, and realized that the person sitting in the row in front of her, which was set so much lower, would be able to see up her skirt and regale himself with the spectacle of her fresh new panties and new garters that she had bought only that day. Everything seemed to conspire for this night of orgy. Intuitively she must have foreseen it all when she went to buy herself panties with a fine lace ruffle on them, and garters of a deep coral color, which were very becoming to her smooth dancer’s legs.

• From The Incendiaries (2018)

  I asked if he’d thought about the promotion he’d said was possible. He stood at the reservations pulpit, writing in his tight script on the back of a menu. Sure, I’ve thought about it, he said, not looking up. His gold pen scratched out a line. Is anything decided? I asked. The pen scraped. His belt-halved gut bulged out, grazing the zinc edge, like an animal about to lunge. It fit his look of menace: if provoked, his flesh might achieve its escape. I glanced past him, trying not to stare. In a torn baseball cap, a man slumped against the other side of the glass. It had started raining. Paul? What’s that? he said. Do I qualify for the job? Kid, what’s the rush? I don’t mean to push you— Sure, you do, he said. —but I need the cash. Since you said that I, I’ve waited tables two months, so I was hoping . . . He dropped his pen on the pulpit top. Tell me something, he said. Do I look like I give a fuck what you need? No. He nodded. On the third upswing, he raised his head. Do I care what you need, or what I need? What you need, Paul. I’ll ask you something, he said. Why do people sit down at a restaurant like this, make a night of it? It’s not the food. If all they want is to eat, they can drive half a mile to the closest shop, buy a big, filling roast fucking chicken for six bucks. It’s not this crowd. Who spends to line up at the trough with a pile of strangers to get fed in unison like pigs? No. They’re wild about a first-rate place like this because it’s selling an illusion. He paused, expecting a response. It’s an illusion, I recited. That’s it, he said. Illusions, kiddo—but of what? The illusion of love, I said. I’d overheard him giving this catechism to waiters before. He clapped my back. Bingo. To be fed well is also to feel loved. But like with all illusions, you’ve got to be consistent. This cousin of mine, he worked in Disneyland, and he dressed up like one of those animals, Mickey, Ducky, I forget. His one job, it’s to strut around, let the little kids take pictures with him. They’d shout like he was this big hero. Not so hard, right? But then one day he felt sick, so he took off his head to throw up, and this one kid who noticed, he lost his shit. See, the kid believed my cousin was the cartoon. From the kid’s angle, Mickey had ripped off his own head. Like that, my cousin lost his job. Why? Because he busted the illusion. His boss told him, Idiot, you should have thrown up in your costume. Will, at times, I look at you, I can tell you’re not faking it right.

• From Hot Rods: Gay Erotic Stories (2011)

  Title : Hot Rods: Gay Erotic Stories Author: Laurence, Sean [image file=image_8.jpg] Table of Contents Title Page FRISK CHROME-OBSESSED URBAN COWBOYS THE BIG HOMO DADDY’S GUIDE TO LOVEMAKING BETWEEN SHOTS FIRED SANDHOGS ABOUT THE AUTHORS Copyright Page [image file=image_39.jpg] FRISK Hank Edwards I sat nervously in the conference room surrounded by my partners in law and, unfortunately, crime. A slick bead of sweat ran from my armpit to the waistband of my boxers, leaving behind a track of moisture that brought on a shiver. “What’s the matter, Zack?” asked the senior partner, George, narrowing his gray eyes in my direction. “Caught a chill?” I shrugged as nonchalantly as possible considering the situation. “Goose walked over my grave, I guess.” The seven men surrounding the fine oak conference table chuckled quietly. All of us had conspired to hide certain business transactions from the government. Now I found myself involved in a sting operation to save my hairy hide and rat out my partners. Oh, what a tangled web we weave. A few months ago the state’s attorney had shown up on my doorstep along about midnight. Midnight visitors are never good, and this one had lived up to that promise. I opened the door to a full-court press and after several hours of talks I agreed to turn state’s evidence against the other partners in my law firm. The state’s attorney had approached me because I was the newest member of the partners’ roster and could ask the many questions that needed to be answered on tape without raising much suspicion. For this effort, I would receive a reduced sentence in a white-collar prison and lose my license to practice law. Hey, what a deal, right? I now wore a small transmitter and microphone to every encounter I had with any of the partners. I had been doing it for several weeks, but at each meeting I felt as nervous as the first time. Would I screw up somehow and blow the whole operation? Then where would I be? Each time I wore the transmitter I had to go through a certain procedure. It was placed on different areas of my body depending on the type of meeting: golf, conference room, travel by car or rail, that kind of thing. With two other witnesses in the office, one of the agents would meet me just before I was to leave for the appointment and tape the transmitter to my waist, back or leg. This required me to partially disrobe, a fact that forced me to start wearing boxers to better hide the fact that I was usually sporting a partial hard-on. I don’t know where they found the field agents for this assignment, but I want a two-week vacation to that place.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  5 When they came to the land of Zuph, Saul said to his servant who was with him, “Come, let us return, otherwise my father will stop worrying about the donkeys and become anxious about us.” 6 The servant said to him, “Look here, in this city there is a man of God, and the man is held in honor; everything that he says comes true. Now let us go there; perhaps he can advise us about our journey [and tell us where we should go].” 7 Then Saul said to his servant, “But look, if we go [to see him], what shall we bring to the man? For the bread from our sacks is gone and there is no gift to bring to the man of God. What do we have [to offer]?” 8 The servant replied again to Saul, “Here in my hand I have a quarter of a shekel of silver; I will give that to the man of God, and he will advise us as to [where we should go on] our journey [to find the donkeys].” 9 (Formerly in Israel, when a man went to inquire of God, he would say, “Come, let us go to the seer”; for he who is called a prophet today was formerly called a seer.) 10 Saul said to his servant, “Well said; come, let us go.” So they went to the city where the man of God was living. 11 As they went up the hill to the city, they met some young women going out to draw water, and said to them, “Is the seer (prophet) here?” 12 They answered them, “He is; look, he is ahead of you. Hurry now, for he has come into the city today because the people have a sacrifice on the high place today. 13 “As you enter the city you will find him before he goes up to the high place to eat, for the people will not eat until he comes, because he must ask the blessing on the sacrifice; afterward, those who are invited will eat. So go up now, for about now you will find him.” 14 So they went up to the city. And as they came into the city, there was Samuel coming out toward them to go up to the high place. God’s Choice for King 15 Now a day before Saul came, the LORD had a informed Samuel [of this], saying, 16 “About this time tomorrow I will send you a man from the land of Benjamin, and you shall anoint him as leader over My people Israel; and he will save My people from the hand of the Philistines. For I have looked upon [the distress of] My people, because their cry [for help] has come to Me.” 17 When Samuel saw Saul, the LORD said to him, “There is the man of whom I spoke to you.

• From Vox (1992)

  Well, I’m driving down the expressway of an eastern city one evening around ten o’clock, in town on business, in my rented midsize car, my Ford Topaz, with the radio going, a classics oldie station, playing ‘Ain’t Nobody,’ and I’m just driving along, and as usual I have my Mmmm-Detector open on the seat beside me, but the fluid is dark, and then I start curving through this residential area, very close to the buildings on either side, and I glance down at the seat beside me, and my God, I’m getting a very strong signal, I’m getting wave patterns I’ve never seen before, from very near and to my right, and craning my neck I catch sight of a lighted window, and I know that behind it you are in process, you are beginning. My years of practice in reading the flux patterns in the watch tells me this is something very special, something I cannot pass by, and so I palm the steering wheel around suddenly and veer onto the off ramp and scoot back through the narrow streets, swearing at all the one-way signs, and when I come to the door where the Mmmm-forces are flowing from, I park in a place that is sure to get me a ticket, and I leave my flashers on, and I go into the foyer. There’s a row of buttons with names beside them: I hold the detector to each one until one, the third one down, makes the Mmmm-Detector glow with strange colors, and I hesitate, I know that I am interrupting you, and I don’t want to do that, that’s the last thing I want to do, but it seems so clear to me, reading the force waves, that there is a strong possibility that you would want me to interrupt you, if you knew me, and the conviction that this is true grows in me, and my finger trembles at your button, and there is a huge interior war between reticence and attraction, between the fear that I will inspire fear and the certainty that I should not inspire fear and that we would like each other if I could simply push that button, and I look down at the Mmmm-Detector and I see that you are going to come in less than four minutes if you keep on at that rate, you’re really moving, the colors are increasingly intense, and I’m trembling, I’m shivering, but I’m compelled, and I push the button, bzzzzt . You’re on your bed, and you’re wearing a blue long-sleeved pullover sort of shirt, and black pants and black sneakers, but your black pants are around your ankles, and you’ve got that tattered, disintegrating issue of Forum in your left hand, and you’re reading about a job interview in which the woman interviewer is sucking the interviewee’s cock, and you’re right in the middle of things, when bzzzzt , the doorbell.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  On THE drive home Mary held Stephen’s hand. ‘I enjoyed my- self awfully, didn’t you? Only —’ and she frowned; ‘ only will it last? I mean, we mustn’t forget Lady Massey. But he’s so nice, and I liked the old aunt .. .’ Stephen said firmly: ‘ Of course it will last.” Then she lied. ‘ I enjoyed it very much too.’ . And even as she lied she came to a resolve which seemed so strange that she flinched a little, for never before since they had been lovers, had she thought of this girl as apart from herself. Yet now she resolved that Mary should go to Passy again — but should go without her. Sitting back in the car she half closed her eyes; just at that moment she did not want to speak lest her voice should betray that flinching to Mary. CHAPTER 53 I ITH Martin’s return Stephen realized how very deeply she had missed him; how much she still needed the thing he now offered, how long indeed she had starved for just this — the friendship of a normal and sympathetic man whose mentality being very much her own, was not only welcome but reassuring. Yes, strange though it was, with this normal man she was far more at ease than with Jonathan Brockett, far more at one with all his ideas, and at times far less conscious of her own inversion; though it seemed that Martin had not only read, but had thought a great deal about the subject. He spoke very little of his studies, however, just accepting her now for the thing that she was, with- out question, and accepting most of her friends with a courtesy as innocent of patronage as of any suspicion of morbid interest. And thus it was that in these first days they appeared to have achieved a complete reunion. Only sometimes, when Mary would talk to him freely as she did very often of such people as Wanda, of the night life of the cafés and bars of Paris — most of which it transpired he himself had been to — of the tragedy of Barbara and Jamie that was never very far from her thoughts, even although a most perfect spring was hurrying forward towards the summer —when Mary would talk to him of these things, Martin would look rather gravely at Stephen. But now they seldom went to the bars, for Martin provided recreations that were really much more to Mary’s liking. Martin the kindly, the thoroughly normal, seemed never at a loss as to what they should do or where they should go when in search of pleasure. By now he knew Paris extremely well, and the Paris he showed them during that spring came as a complete revelation to Mary. He would often take them to dine in the Bois. At the neighbouring tables would be men and women; neat, well 482 THE WELL OF LONELINESS

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The lady now understood very well how the case stood and telling the maid what she had heard from the physician, besought her help to save Ruggieri, for that she might, an she would, at once save him and preserve her honour. Quoth she, 'Madam, teach me how, and I will gladly do anything.' Whereupon the lady, whose wits were sharpened by the urgency of the case, having promptly bethought herself of that which was to do, particularly acquainted the maid therewith, who first betook herself to the physician and weeping, began to say to him, 'Sir, it behoveth me ask you pardon of a great fault, which I have committed against you.' 'In what?' asked the doctor, and she, never giving over weeping, answered, 'Sir, you know what manner young man is Ruggieri da Jeroli. He took a liking to me awhile agone and partly for fear and partly for love, needs must I become his mistress. Yesternight, knowing that you were abroad, he cajoled me on such wise that I brought him into your house to lie with me in my chamber, and he being athirst and I having no whither more quickly to resort for water or wine, unwilling as I was that your lady, who was in the saloon, should see me, I remembered me to have seen a flagon of water in your chamber. Accordingly, I ran for it and giving him the water to drink, replaced the flagon whence I had taken it, whereof I find you have made a great outcry in the house. And certes I confess I did ill; but who is there doth not ill bytimes? Indeed, I am exceeding grieved to have done it, not so much for the thing itself as for that which hath ensued of it and by reason whereof Ruggieri is like to lose his life. Wherefore I pray you, as most I may, pardon me and give me leave to go succour Ruggieri inasmuch as I can.' The physician, hearing this, for all he was angry, answered jestingly, 'Thou hast given thyself thine own penance therefor, seeing that, whereas thou thoughtest yesternight to have a lusty young fellow who would shake thy skincoats well for thee, thou hadst a sluggard; wherefore go and endeavour for the deliverance of thy lover; but henceforth look thou bring him not into the house again, or I will pay thee for this time and that together.'

• From Girls & Sex (2016)

  She looked again at her stomach, again at her butt. She changed her shirt. She pulled off her skirt, tried on a different one, decided the first made her stomach look better, changed back. “In my gender class I’m all, ‘That damned patriarchy,’” she said. “But at night it all goes to shit. The only thing I care about is: ‘Does this skirt make my ass look good?’” She grabbed her cosmetics pouch and headed to the bathroom. Although she hates makeup, she said, it’s part of attracting guys’ attention, so she swiped on dark lipstick and some smoky, sparkly eye shadow. She smoothed her hair with two hands (a brush in one, a comb in the other), put on a pair of four-inch heels, and doused herself with perfume. “It makes me feel less self-conscious to wear the outfit and the heels,” she said. “I feel kind of like I’m swaggering, like, ‘Yes, I am the baddest bitch in this room.’” The evening was cold, but Megan didn’t take a jacket. Nor did she carry a purse. She held her keys and school ID in one hand (later she would lose both) and tucked her phone and iPod into the waistband of her skirt, which was tight enough to hold them fast. She looked in the mirror one last time, turning to check her butt, and tugged down the hem of her skirt, a gesture she’d repeat every few minutes throughout the evening. She grabbed a bottle of vodka to share at pregames, and headed out the door. It was nearly ten o’clock. Her goal? “To get really drunk and make out with someone,” she said cheerfully. “Because what’s the point of a night if you aren’t getting attention from guys?” The stigma of “slut” didn’t disappear with the rise of hookup culture. Its criteria just became ever more elusive. Girls routinely told me they hated the word, that they never used it, didn’t “slut-shame” their classmates (though in truth, they often did). At the same time, they policed themselves. Some, like Holly, would continually revise, rather than discard, the definition of “skank” as their own behavior changed. Others, such as Megan, took “slut” on as a badge of honor, or at least tried to. “I’m the slutty friend,” she told me gleefully when we’d first met. “I find it liberating. I love being the crazy one. If someone is going to judge me for what I do, then fine, judge me. I don’t care. Fuck you if you think you’re better than me just because you don’t have sex that much. I feel bad for you if you don’t have sex that much because sex is awesome. I’m not saying that every time I go out, I hook up with someone. That’s definitely not the case. But it’s more fun to not control myself. Not to worry how it will look. And in college, nobody gives a shit.”

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  But her voice was quite gentle, so Stephen said quickly: ‘ Well then, may I invite Mrs. Crossby to Morton? ’ Anna hesitated a moment, then she nodded: ‘I suppose so — that is if you really wish to.’ The drive only took about twenty minutes, for now Stephen was so nervous that she positively flew. She who had been puffed up with elation and self-satisfaction was crumbling completely -in spite of her careful new necktie she was crumbling at the mere thought of Angela Crossby. Arrived at The Grange she felt over life-size; her hands seemed enormous, all out of proportion, and she thought that the butler stared at her hands. ‘ Miss Gordon? ’ he inquired. ‘Yes, she mumbled, ‘ Miss Gordon.’ Then he coughed as he did on the telephone, and quite suddenly Stephen felt foolish. She was shown into a small oak-panelled parlour whose long, open casements looked on to the herb-garden. A fire of apple wood burnt on the hearth, in spite of the fact that the weather was warm, for Angela was always inclined to feel chilly — the result, so she said, of the English climate. The fire gave off rather a sweet, pungent odour — the odour of slightly damp logs and dry ashes. By way of a really propitious beginning, Tony barked until he nearly burst his stitches, so that Angela, who was lying on the lounge, had perforce to get up in order to soothe him. An ex- THE WELL OF LONELINESS 153 tremely round bullfinch in an ornate brass cage, was piping a tune with his wings half extended. The tune sounded something like * Pop goes the weasel.’ At all events it was an impudent tune, and Stephen felt that she hated that bullfinch. It took all of five minutes to calm down Tony, during which Stephen stood apolo- getic but tongue-tied. She hardly knew whether to laugh or to cry at this very ridiculous anti-climax. Then Angela decided the matter by laughing: ‘I’m so sorry, Miss Gordon, he’s feeling peevish. It’s quite natural, poor lamb, he had a bad night, he just hates being all sewn up like a bolster.’ Stephen went over and offered him her hand, which Tony now licked, so that trouble was ended; but in getting up Angela had torn her dress, and this seemed to distress her — she kept fingering the tear. ‘ Can I help? ’ inquired Stephen, hoping she’d say no — which she did, quite firmly, after one look at Stephen. At last Angela settled down again on the lounge. ‘ Come and sit over here,’ she suggested, smiling. Then Stephen sat down on the edge of a chair as though she were sitting in the Prickly Cradle.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  [Is 37:1–13 ] 2 Then he sent Eliakim who was in charge of his household, Shebna the scribe, and the elders of the priests, covered with sackcloth, to Isaiah the prophet the son of Amoz. 3 They said to him, “Thus says Hezekiah, ‘This is a day of distress and anxiety, of punishment and humiliation; for children have come to [the time of their] birth and there is no strength to rescue them. 4 ‘It may be that the LORD your God will hear all the words of the Rabshakeh, whom his master the king of Assyria has sent to taunt and defy the living God, and will rebuke the words which the LORD your God has heard. So offer a prayer for the remnant [of His people] that is left [in Judah].’ ” 5 So the servants of King Hezekiah came to Isaiah. 6 Isaiah said to them, “Say this to your master: ‘Thus says the LORD , “Do not be afraid because of the words that you have heard, with which the servants of the king of Assyria have reviled (blasphemed) Me. 7 ‘Behold, I will put a spirit in him so that he will hear a rumor and return to his own land. And I will make him fall by the sword in his own land.” ’ ” Sennacherib Defies God 8 So the Rabshakeh returned and found the king of Assyria fighting against Libnah [a fortified city of Judah]; for he had heard that the king had left Lachish. 9 When the king heard them say concerning Tirhakah king of a Ethiopia, “Behold, he has come out to make war against you,” he sent messengers again to Hezekiah, saying, 10 “Say this to Hezekiah king of Judah, ‘Do not let your God on whom you rely deceive you by saying, “Jerusalem shall not be handed over to the king of Assyria.” 11 ‘Listen, you have heard what the Assyrian kings have done to all the lands, destroying them completely. So will you be spared? 12 ‘Did the gods of the nations whom my forefathers destroyed rescue them—Gozan and Haran [of Mesopotamia] and Rezeph and the people of Eden who were in Telassar? 13 ‘Where is the king of Hamath, the king of Arpad [of northern Syria], the king of the city of Sepharvaim, and of Hena and Ivvah?’ ” Hezekiah’s Prayer 14 Hezekiah received the letter from the hand of the messengers and read it. Then he went up to the house (temple) of the LORD and spread it out before the LORD . [Is 37:14–20 ] 15 Hezekiah prayed before the LORD and said, “O LORD , the God of Israel, who is enthroned above the cherubim [of the b ark in the temple], You are the God, You alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth. You have made the heavens and the earth.