Sadness

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 The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  Last of all he took them to the Temple d’Amour, where it rests amid the great silence of the years that have long lain upon the dead hearts of its lovers; and from there to the Hameau, built by the queen for a whim — the tactless and foolish whim of a tactless and foolish but loving woman — by the queen who must play at being a peasant, at a time when her downtrodden peasants were starving. The cottages were badly in need of repair; a melancholy spot it looked, this Hameau, in spite of the birds that sang in its trees and the golden glint of the afternoon sunshine. 274 THE WELL OF LONELINESS On the drive back to-Paris they were all very silent. Puddle was feeling too tired to talk, and Stephen was oppressed by a sense of sadness—the vast and rather beautiful sadness that may come to us when we have looked upon beauty, the sadness that aches in the heart of Versailles. Brockett was content to sit opposite Stephen on the hard little let-down seat of her motor. He might have been comfortable next to the driver, but instead he preferred to sit opposite Stephen, and he too was silent, surreptitiously watching the expression of her face in the gather- ing twilight. When he left them he said with his cold little smile: ‘ To- morrow, before you’ve forgotten Versailles, I want you to come to the Conciergerie. It’s very enlightening — cause and effect.’ At that moment Stephen disliked him intensely. All the same he had stirred her imagination. 3 In THE weeks that followed, Brockett showed Stephen just as much of Paris as he wished her to see, and this principally con- sisted of the tourist’s Paris. Into less simple pastures he would guide her later on, always provided that his interest lasted. For the present, however, he considered it wiser to tread delicately like Agag. The thought of this girl had begun to obsess him to a very unusual extent. He who had prided himself on his skill in ferreting out other people’s secrets, was completely baffled by this youthful abnormal. That she was abnormal he had no doubt whatever, but what he was keenly anxious to find out was just how her own abnormality struck her — he felt pretty sure that she worried about it. And he genuinely liked her. Unscrupulous he might be in his vivisection of men and women; cynical too when it came to his pleasures, himself an invert, secretly hating the world which he knew hated him in secret; and yet in his way he felt sorry for Stephen, and this amazed him, for Jonathan Brockett had long ago, as he thought, done with pity. But his pity was a very poor thing at best, it would never defend and THE WELL OF LONELINESS 275

• From Unbought and Unbossed: Transgressive Black Women, Sexuality, and Representation (2014)

  In her allusion to slavery, Meridian also problematizes universal notions regarding motherhood that in her case are further complicated by race and the historical dynamics and nexus between black women and motherhood. Given (enslaved) black women's restricted/denied access to and "ownership" of their children-who, like adult slaves, were commodified and sold as chattel-motherhood within a black racialized context embodies a complex set of meanings beyond the universal. Since motherhood, as a concept and institution, "is of central importance in [...] the philosophy of African and Afro-American peoples," it is interconnected with "the historical process within which these peoples have been engaged, a process that is an intertwining of tradition, enslavement, and the struggle for their peoples' freedom."27 Black motherhood and "the black mother" emblematize, then, something both real and mystical that has historically been revered and idealized. Notwithstanding the historical significance undergirding black motherhood, Meridian, contrary to this "tradition," chooses both freely and deliberately to give her son away rather than kill either him or herself. Having internalized ideologies concerning black motherhood, Meridian is still both unwilling and unable to serve the role of mother she has been socialized to embrace and fulfill. Unlike her "maternal" ancestors, who had equated the opportunity to keep their children with "freedom," Meridian views slavery and motherhood, specifically raising an unexpected and/ or unwanted child, as comparable institutions. In giving away her son, a highly contestatory act, Meridian simultaneously and paradoxically upholds yet diverges from "ideal" black motherhood. That is, she exercises her right as a mother to protect her baby-"believing she had saved [his] life" (91)-by giving him away; yet, conversely, she dissociates herself from the tradition, actual and mythical, by abandoning her child-even if she does so to accept a scholarship to college."

• From City of Night (1963)

  “Why do you hustle?” he asked me once. It was the first overt reference he had made to that, and it was the kind of statement that, from almost anyone else, I would quickly have put down. I was tempted to point out that I hadnt asked him for anything. Instead, I merely said. “I have to.” “Thats not true,” he challenged. “Youve told me youve worked.” Annoyed far beyond his question, I said: “Okay, then, I prefer to.” More and more, I was now in the bars or on the hustling streets only when I had to score. I avoided Main Street altogether. The craving for the sexual anarchy began to diminish for the first time since I had begun that journey through nightlives. I felt a great friendship for Dave (and an amount of pity for the paradoxical fact of him in a world of furtive contacts; he should be married, the father of adored children).... But all this, I told myself, was merely a welcome friendship in a period of ennui with the turbulence of the chosen world. Still, there were those times when a different kind of fear began to seize me. Im sitting with Dave in the outside arena of Pacific Ocean Park in Santa Monica, watching the animal circus. It’s a bright breezeless afternoon, when, miraculously, the usually hazy Los Angeles sky is purely clear, like a childhood-remembered Texas sky. “Miss Pinky! The Graceful Elephant!” The announcer, who has just introduced the next animal performer—“Miss Pinky”—leads a small elephant into the arena. Painted a garish purplish pink, the elephant wears a small, multicolored, flowered hat perched absurdly on the giant head, slightly bowed as if in shame. The liveried trainer puts the pink elephant through a series of dance routines, accompanied by music. The elephant with the ridiculously flowered hat goes doggedly through the motions of a hula, a mambo, a waltz. The trunk sways clumsily, enormous legs execute the steps ponderously. The flowered hat fell over one eye, and the trainer coaxed the elephant to push the hat back on with its trunk. The audience rocked with laughter. As the elephant lurched from side to side, the great ears as if rejecting the hat, the announcer says: “Miss Pinky isnt really a dainty young girl, Folks! She is really a boy-elephant But he has such A Special Appeal—such Graceful Talents—as Im sure youll agree—” (Applause! —and the elephant is persuaded by the trainer to bow his great head in thanks.) “—that we think it would be a shame to waste them. And so, Folks, a Great Big Hand for Miss Pinky—the graceful boy-elephant!”... I see Dave stare solemnly at the elephant being led off the small arena, the flowered hat perched crookedly over one ear.... “It’s sad—that great big male elephant painted pink—and that hat on his head,” Dave said.

• From Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life (1994)

  For instance, a code bologna sandwich meant white bread, one or two slices of bologna, mustard, one wilted piece of iceberg lettuce. (The Catholics were heavily into mayonnaise, which we might get into later.) Fathers, to begin with, always used nonregulation bread and then buttered it, which made the sandwich about as tradable as a plate of haggis. Also, everything was always falling out of the sandwiches fathers made. I’m not sure why. They’d use anything green and frilly for lettuce, when of course only the one piece of wilted iceberg was permissible. Your friends saw a big leaf of romaine falling out along with the slice of bologna, and you might soon find yourself alongside the kid against the fence . There was always that one kid against the fence. How could the rest of us feel Okay if there wasn’t? If it was a guy, there was probably a trumpet case at his feet and he wore strangely scuffed shoes, because he avoided the foot traffic on sidewalks and walked instead through weedy lots with dogs yipping at him. He didn’t end up at that station only because his lunches were nightmarish in their eccentricity, but his lunches didn’t help . He almost certainly ended up being a writer . Now, who knows if any of this is usable material? There’s no way to tell until you’ve got it all down, and then there might just be one sentence or one character or one theme that you end up using. But you get it all down. You just write . I heard Natalie Goldberg, the author of Writing Down the Bones , speak on writing once. Someone asked her for the best possible writing advice she had to offer, and she held up a yellow legal pad, pretended her fingers held a pen, and scribbled away. I think this was some sort of Zen reference—the Buddhist disciple remembering Buddha’s flower sermon, in which all Buddha did was hold up a flower and twirl it, in silence, sitting on the mountain. Me, I’m a nice Christian girl, and while I wish I could quote something kicky and inspirational that Jesus had to say about writing, the truth is that when students ask me for the best practical advice I know, I always pick up a piece of paper and pantomime scribbling away. My students usually think this is a very wise and Zenlike thing for me to convey. Mostly, I forget to give Natalie Goldberg credit. But write about what? they ask next. Write about carrot sticks, I tell them: Code carrots had to look machine extruded, absolutely uniform, none longer than the length of the sandwich. Your parents would sometimes send you to school with waxed-paper packets of uneven cuckoo-bunny carrots, and your carrot esteem would be so low you couldn’t even risk looking at the guy against the fence.

• From Vox (1992)

  “Okay, and in return for your indulgence, I’m going to try to do something with your heirlooms there, on your dining-room table. Let me see. All right, once there was a guy who had a big party, a big dinner party for a dozen people, which really wasn’t his style, but he did it anyway, and when all of his friends had left, he began cleaning up, feeling slightly depressed. He took the plates in, the glasses in, the cutlery in, man, he’d never seen the basket in his dishwasher so stuffed with silverware. He jammed the last fork in, but in his impatience to close the dishwasher door and go to bed, he didn’t check that the fork was all the way in the basket, and as it happened it was not, because the forks were so tightly squeezed in there that he would have really had to work it down for it to stay put. This was one of the older-style dishwashers, and when that fork was tossed aloft by the first powerful spray of water up from the impeller, it fell, and it happened to fall so that it was caught dangling somehow between a plate and the little loop on the handle of a saucepan, with the points up, and the handle dangling far enough down that the sprayer in the bottom swung into it at full speed and notched it, and made it swing up again but not completely out of the way, and so it swung down into the path of the sprayer thing again and again, and got very messed up, and by the time this guy was able to get back to the kitchen and turn off the dishwasher, which sounded awful, the fork was badly injured. He dried the fork with a paper towel, and the rough places on the fork tore the paper, and that was too much for him, he almost felt like throwing the fork away, and he went to bed very dejected, wondering what the point of it all was. Okay? Now in this same city there was a jewelry store, that some might say was a little bit too trendy, but that was still a very nice place—they didn’t sell diamonds or emeralds or conventional big-ticket items like that, in fact it was called ‘Harvey’s Semi-Precious,’ after Harvey, the owner—and mostly it sold artisan stuff and collectibles. And you got a job there.” “I did?” she said.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  She put the card away in her desk; the ink and the blotter she hid in the cupboard together with the peevish steel nib that jabbed paper, and that richly deserved cremation. Then she straightened the chairs and threw away the litter, after which she went in search of a duster; one by one she dusted the few remaining volumes in the bookcase, including the Bibliothéque Rose. She arranged her dictation notebooks in a pile with others that were far less accurately written — books of sums, mostly careless and marked with a cross; books of English history, in one of which Stephen had begun ta write the history of the horse! Books of geography with Mademoiselle’s comments in strong purple ink: ‘Grand manque d’attention.’ And lastly she col- lected the torn lesson books that had lain on their backs, on their sides, on their bellies — anyhow, anywhere in drawers or in cup- boards, but not very often in the bookcase. For the bookcase was harbouring quite other things, a motley and most unstudious collection; dumb-bells, wooden and iron, of varying sizes — some Indian clubs, one split off at the handle — cotton laces, for gym shoes, the belt of a tunic. And then stable keepsakes, including a headband that Raftery had worn on some special occasion; a miniature horseshoe kicked sky-high by Collins; a half-eaten carrot, now withered and mouldy, and two hunting crops that had both lost their lashes and were waiting to visit the saddler. Stephen considered, rubbing her chin—a habit which by now had become automatic — she finally decided on the ample box-sofa as a seemly receptacle. Remained only the carrot, and THE WELL OF LONELINESS 67 she stood for a long time with it clasped in her hand, disturbed and unhappy — this clearing of decks for stern menta! action was certainly very depressing. But at last she threw the thing into the fire, where it shifted distressfully, sizzling and humming. Then she sat down and stared rather grimly at the flames that were burning up Raftery’s first carrot. CHAPTER 7 I

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  began to sing in the cedar, and his song was full of wild jubila- tion: ‘ Stephen, look at me, look at me!’ sang the thrush, ‘I’m happy, happy, it’s all very simple! > There was something heart- less about that singing which only served to remind her of Martin. She walked on disconsolate, thinking deeply. He had gone, he would soon be back in his forests — she had made no effort to keep him beside her because he had wanted to be her lover... . ‘ Stephen, look at us, look at us! ’ sang the birds, “ We’re happy, happy, it’s all very simple! ’ Martin walking in dim, green places — she could picture his life away in the forests, a man’s life, good with the goodness of danger, a primitive, strong, imperative thing — a man’s life, the life that should have been hers — And her eyes filled with heavy, regretful tears, yet she did not quite know for what she was weeping. She only knew that some great sense of loss, some great sense of incompleteness possessed her, and she let the tears trickle down her face, wiping them off one by one with her finger. And now she was passing the old potting shed where Collins had lain in the arms of the footman. Choking back her tears she paused by the shed, and tried to remember the girl’s appearance. Grey eyes — no, blue, and a round-about figure — plump hands, with soft skin always puckered from soap-suds — a housemaid’s knee that had pained very badly: ‘See that dent? That’s the water. . . . It fair makes me sick.’ Then a queer little girl dressed up as young Nelson: ‘ Pd like to be awfully hurt for you, Collins, the way that Jesus was hurt for sinners. . . . The potting shed smelling of earth and dampness, sagging a little on one side, lop-sided — Collins lying in the arms of the footman, Collins being kissed by him, wantonly, crudely — a broken flower pot in the hand of a child — rage, deep rage =a great anguish of spirit—blood on a face that was pale with amazement, very bright red blood that kept trickling and trickling — flight, wild, inarticulate flight, away and away, anyhow, anywhere — the pain of torn skin, the rip of torn stockings — She had not remembered these things for years, she had thought that all this had been quite forgotten; there was nothing THE WELL OF LONELINESS II3

• From The Beautiful Room Is Empty (1988)

  Half an hour later we were stepping into a club where a young white man holding a trumpet was singing “This Is Love” in an innocent voice—innocent but angular, before an audience of just two tables, both silent, hands bright under lamps, faces lost in the filtered shade. The smoky, hard taste of whisky sank an upside-down question mark of warmth that plumbed my chest and swirled around inside my stomach. I was getting drunk. Lou’s face sparkled with sweat; a few points of moisture as definite as the dots on dice had broken out just above his nose. His dark jacket sleeves were pulled back to reveal heavy white shirt cuffs cuffing hands as cleanly as the gauze fits around a thoroughbred’s slender shanks. He sipped cigarettes, he sipped drinks with lips newly thinned by the opulent melancholy of the music. Nothing happened. There’s no payoff to this story and I repeat it only because the snapshot of Lou, so lost and so remote, impeccable despite the chaos in his apartment, still speaks to me with the force of an event (my plots are all scrapbooks). That night as we lay in bed, Lou’s room lurched here and there as though the camera were hand-held by a skater. He told me how he’d played jazz trumpet when he was nineteen. “I fell in love with our vocalist, a Negro woman a few years older than me, and when she became pregnant, my parents paid her off to go away somewhere. So I’ve got a twelve-year-old son wandering around—” “You’re sure it’s a son?” Lou looked bewildered, then irritated. “I’m not sure of anything, but I dream of a boy the nights when I’m able to dream of anything.” I asked him what happened to him after that. “I’d become addicted to heroin and my parents put me in an expensive psychiatric hospital, the one where the movie stars go. My brother was already there.” “What a wild family!” I exclaimed, although my burst of enthusiasm made the whole room dip nauseatingly. I propped up on two pillows that had lost their cases and I prayed for solid ground. “Yes,” Lou said witheringly, “quite wild. My brother committed suicide soon after my arrival. He was living in a halfway house after five years of expert professional treatment.” A small black toad of a laugh hopped through his lips. “Oh, Lou,” I said, “I’m sorry,” and I wanted to touch him, but I was afraid his body would be cold. “But the wildness of my tale is just starting,” Lou insisted.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  3 “In that day, the songs of the palace shall turn to wailing,” says the Lord GOD . “There will be many dead bodies; in [sacred] silence they will throw them everywhere.” 4 Hear this, you who trample down the needy, and do away with the poor of the land, 5 saying, “When will the New Moon [festival] be over So that we may sell grain, And the Sabbath ended so that we may open the wheat market, Making the ephah [measure] smaller and the shekel bigger [that is, selling less for a higher price] And to cheat by falsifying the scales, 6 So that we may buy the poor [as slaves] for silver [since they are unable to support themselves] And the a needy for a pair of sandals, And that we may sell the leftovers of the wheat [as if it were a good grade of grain]?” 7 The LORD has sworn [an oath] by the pride of Jacob, “Surely I shall never forget [nor leave unpunished] any of their [rebellious] acts. 8 “Because of this [coming judgment] will the land not quake And everyone mourn who dwells in it? Indeed, all of it shall rise up like the Nile, And it will be tossed around [from the impact of judgment] And [afterward] subside again like the Nile of Egypt. 9 “It shall come about in that day,” says the Lord GOD , “That I shall cause the sun to go down at noon, And I shall darken the earth in broad daylight. [Ezek 32:7–10 ] 10 “And I shall turn your festivals and feasts into mourning And all your songs into dirges (funeral poems to be sung); And I shall cause sackcloth to be put on everyone’s b loins And baldness on every head [shaved for mourning]. And I shall make that time like a time of mourning for an only son [who has died], And the end of it shall be like a bitter day. 11 “Behold, the days are coming,” says the Lord GOD , “When I will send hunger over the land, Not hunger for bread or a thirst for water, But rather [a hunger] for hearing the words of the LORD . 12 “People shall stagger from sea to sea [to the very ends of the earth] And from the north even to the east; They will roam here and there to seek the word of the LORD [longing for it as essential for life], But they will not find it. 13 “In that day the beautiful virgins And [even the vigorous] young men shall faint from thirst.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  Hosea 6 a 6:9 Shechem was the first capital city of the Kingdom of Israel. Hosea 7 a 7:1 Samaria became the capital city of the Kingdom of Israel (the ten northern tribes) during the reign of King Omri (see 1 Kin 16:24 ). b 7:14 Or with Greek and many ancient mss gash themselves. Hosea 8 a 8:10 Lit to be small . Hosea 10 a 10:5 Jeroboam was the king who established the worship of the golden calf at Bethel (House of God), later known as Beth-aven (1 Kin 12:28–33 ). Hosea 11 a 11:8 The cities totally destroyed with Sodom. Hosea 12 a 12:9 I.e. the Feast of Booths (Tabernacles). Hosea 13 a 13:14 The apostle Paul brings this passage to mind—but with a change of meaning made possible by the resurrection of Christ. The Book of Joel Joel 1 1 T he word of the LORD that came to a Joel, the son of Pethuel. The Devastation of Locusts 2 Hear this, O elders, Listen closely, all inhabitants of the land! Has such a thing as this occurred in your days, Or even in the days of your fathers? 3 Tell your children about it, And let your children tell their children, And their children the next generation. 4 What the gnawing locust has left, the swarming locust has eaten; And what the swarming locust has left, the creeping locust has eaten; And what the creeping locust has left, the stripping locust has eaten [in judgment of Judah]. 5 Awake [from your intoxication], you drunkards, and weep; Wail, all you drinkers of wine, Because of the [fresh] sweet wine That is cut off from your mouth. 6 For a [pagan and hostile] nation has invaded My land [like locusts], Mighty and without number; Its teeth are the teeth of a lion, And it has the fangs of a lioness. [Rev 9:7 , 8 ] 7 It has made My vine (My people) a waste and object of horror, And splintered and broken My fig tree. It has stripped them completely bare and thrown them away; Their branches have become white. [Is 5:5 , 6 ] 8 Wail like a virgin [bride] clothed with b sackcloth For the bridegroom of her youth [who has died]. 9 The [daily] grain offering and the drink offering are cut off From the house of the LORD ; The priests mourn Who minister to the LORD . 10 The field is ruined, The ground mourns; For the grain is ruined, The new wine is dried up, The fresh oil fails. 11 Be ashamed, O farmers; Wail, O vinedressers, For the wheat and for the barley, Because the harvest of the field has perished. 12 The vine dries up And the fig tree fails; The pomegranate, the palm also, and the apple tree, All the trees of the field dry up, Indeed, joy dries up and withdraws From the sons of men.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  19 “If you belonged to the world, the world would love [you as] its own and would treat you with affection. But you are not of the world [you no longer belong to it], but I have chosen you out of the world. And because of this the world hates you. 20 “Remember [and continue to remember] that I told you, ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you. If they kept My word, they will keep yours also. 21 “But they will do all these [hurtful] things to you for My name’s sake [because you bear My name and are identified with Me], for they do not know the One who sent Me. 22 “If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have [the guilt of their] sin; but now they have no excuse for their sin. 23 “The one who hates Me also hates My Father. 24 “If I had not done among them the works (attesting miracles) which no one else [ever] did, they would not have [the guilt of their] sin; but now [the fact is that] they have both seen [these works] and have hated Me [and continue to hate Me] and My Father as well. 25 “But [this is so] that the word which has been written in their Law would be fulfilled, ‘T HEY HATED M E WITHOUT A CAUSE .’ [Ps 35:19 ; 69:4 ] 26 “But when the d Helper (Comforter, Advocate, Intercessor—Counselor, Strengthener, Standby) comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, that is the Spirit of Truth who comes from the Father, He will testify and bear witness about Me. 27 “But you will testify also and be My witnesses, because you have been with Me from the beginning. John 16 Jesus’ Warning 1 “I HAVE told you these things so that you will not stumble or be caught off guard and fall away. 2 “They will put you out of the synagogues and make you outcasts. And a time is coming when whoever kills you will think that he is offering service to God. 3 “And they will do these things because they have not known the Father or Me. 4 “I have told you these things [now], so that when their time comes, you will remember that I told you about them. I did not say these things to you at the beginning, because I was with you. The Holy Spirit Promised 5 “But now I am going to Him who sent Me; and none of you asks Me, ‘Where are You going?’ 6 “But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your hearts [and taken complete possession of them].

• From The Decameron (1353)

  At last, several years being passed since the birth of the girl, Gualtieri, deeming it time to make the supreme trial of her endurance, declared, in the presence of his people, that he could no longer endure to have Griselda to wife and that he perceived that he had done ill and boyishly in taking her, wherefore he purposed, as far as in him lay, to make interest with the Pope to grant him a dispensation, so he might put her away and take another wife. For this he was roundly taken to task by many men of worth, but answered them nothing save that needs must it be so. The lady, hearing these things and herseeming she must look to return to her father's house and maybe tend sheep again as she had done aforetime, what while she saw another woman in possession of him to whom she willed all her weal, sorrowed sore in herself; but yet, even as she had borne the other affronts of fortune, so with a firm countenance she addressed herself to bear this also. Gualtieri no great while after let come to him from Rome counterfeit letters of dispensation and gave his vassals to believe that the Pope had thereby licensed him to take another wife and leave Griselda; then, sending for the latter, he said to her, in presence of many, 'Wife, by concession made me of the Pope, I am free to take another wife and put thee away, and accordingly, for that mine ancestors have been great gentlemen and lords of this country, whilst thine have still been husbandmen, I mean that thou be no more my wife, but that thou return to Giannucolo his house with the dowry which thou broughtest me, and I will after bring hither another wife, for that I have found one more sorted to myself.'

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  [Matt 23:38 ; Acts 1:20 ] 26 For they have persecuted him whom You have struck, And they tell of the pain of those whom You have pierced and wounded. 27 Add [unforgiven] iniquity to their iniquity [in Your book], And may they not come into Your c righteousness. 28 May they be blotted out of the book of life [and their lives come to an end] And may they not be recorded with the righteous (those in right standing with God). [Rev 3:4 , 5 ; 20:12 , 15 ; 21:27 ] 29 But I am sorrowful and in pain; May Your salvation, O God, set me [securely] on high. 30 I will praise the name of God with song And magnify Him with thanksgiving. 31 And it will please the LORD better than an ox Or a young bull with horns and hoofs. 32 The humble have seen it and are glad; You who seek God [requiring Him as your greatest need], let your heart revive and live. [Ps 22:26 ; 42:1 ] 33 For the LORD hears the needy And does not despise His who are prisoners. 34 Let heaven and earth praise Him, The seas and everything that moves in them. 35 For God will save Zion and rebuild the cities of Judah, That His servants may remain there and possess it. 36 The descendants of His servants will inherit it, And those who love His name will dwell in it. Psalm 70 Prayer for Help against Persecutors. To the Chief Musician. A Psalm of David, to bring to remembrance. 1 O GOD, come quickly to save me; O LORD , come quickly to help me! 2 Let those be ashamed and humiliated Who seek my life; Let them be turned back and humiliated Who delight in my hurt. 3 Let them be turned back because of their shame and disgrace Who say, “Aha, aha!” 4 May all those who seek You [as life’s first priority] rejoice and be glad in You; May those who love Your salvation say continually, “Let God be magnified!” 5 But I am afflicted and needy; Come quickly to me, O God! You are my help and my rescuer; O LORD , do not delay. Psalm 71 Prayer of an Old Man for Rescue. 1 I N YOU, O LORD , I have put my trust and confidently taken refuge; Let me never be a put to shame. 2 In Your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; Incline Your ear to me and save me. 3 Be to me a rock of refuge and a sheltering stronghold to which I may continually come; You have given the commandment to save me, For You are my rock and my fortress. 4 Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked (godless), From the grasp of the unrighteous and ruthless man.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  21 Who knows if the spirit of man ascends upward and the spirit of the animal descends downward to the earth? 22 So I have seen that there is nothing better than that a man should be happy in his own works and activities, for that is his portion (share). For who will bring him [back] to see what will happen after he is gone? Ecclesiastes 4 The Evils of Oppression 1 T HEN I looked again and considered all the acts of oppression that were being practiced under the sun. And behold I saw the tears of the oppressed and they had no one to comfort them; and on the side of their oppressors was power, but they had no one to comfort them. 2 So I congratulated and thought more fortunate are those who are already dead than the living who are still living. 3 But better off than either of them is the one who has not yet been born, who has not seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun. 4 I have seen that every [effort in] labor and every skill in work comes from man’s rivalry with his neighbor. This too is vanity (futility, false pride) and chasing after the wind. 5 The fool folds his hands [together] and consumes his own flesh [destroying himself by idleness and apathy]. 6 One hand full of rest and patience is better than two fists full of labor and chasing after the wind. 7 Then I looked again at vanity under the sun [in one of its peculiar forms]. 8 There was a certain man—without a dependent, having neither a child nor a brother, yet there was no end to all his labor. Indeed, his eyes were not satisfied with riches and he never asked, “For whom do I labor and deprive myself of pleasure?” This too is vanity (a wisp of smoke, self-conceit); yes, it is a painful effort and an unhappy task. [Prov 27:20 ; 1 John 2:16 ] 9 Two are better than one because they have a more satisfying return for their labor; 10 for if a either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and does not have another to lift him up. 11 Again, if two lie down together, then they keep warm; but how can one be warm alone? 12 And though one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken. 13 A poor yet wise youth is better than an old and foolish king who b no longer knows how to receive instruction and counsel (friendly reproof, warning)— 14 for the poor youth has [used his wisdom and] come out of prison to become king, even though he was born poor in his kingdom.

• From Girls & Sex (2016)

  Listening to Bell, I recalled a conversation I’d had with Mackenzie, a sophomore at a Bay Area high school dominated by hookup culture. She was going through a rocky patch when we met: her boyfriend of a year had just cheated on her, making out with another girl while drunk at a party, and she was conflicted over whether to break things off. She was often teary as we talked, describing ways she’d “lost herself” in their relationship. “I’m not saying that’s all a negative thing, though,” she added. “I’ve learned a lot about myself, too. I’ve learned that I have so much to me. I have a lot to give. Also I learned a lot about myself and vulnerability. I can love very deeply, and I think that’s a good thing. I’ve learned a lot about my body, about my mind—just being with someone else, hearing their views on things, being intimate. I’m still learning. I’m learning what it’s like to deal with heartbreak and someone you believed would never hurt you and he did. All of that.”

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  “ A fine lot, n’est-ce pas? ’ he would say with a grin, ‘ See that man? Ah, yes—a really great poet. He drank himself to death. In those days it was absinthe — they liked it because it gave them such courage. That one would come here like a scared white rat, but Crénom! when he left he would bellow like a bull — the ab- sinthe, of course — it gave them great courage.’ Or: ‘ That woman over there, what a curious head! I remember her very well, she was German. Else Weining, her name was — before the war she would come with a girl she’d picked up here in Paris, just a com- mon whore, a most curious business. They were deeply in love. They would sit at a table in the corner — I can show you their actual table. They never talked much and they drank very little; as far as the drink went those two were bad clients, but so inter- esting that I did not much mind — I grew almost attached to Else Weining. Sometimes she would come all alone, come early. “ Pu,” she would say in her hideous French; “ Pu, she must never go back to that hell.” Hell! Sacrénom — she to call it hell! Amazing they are, I tell you, these people. Well, the girl went back, natu- rally she went back, and Else drowned herself in the Seine. Amaz- ing they are — ces invertis, I tell you! ’ But not all the histories were so tragic as this one; Monsieur Pujol found some of them quite amusing. Quarrels galore he was able to relate, and light infidelities by the dozen. He would mimic a manner of speech, a gesture, a walk — he was really quite a THE WELL OF LONELINESS 443 good mimic — and when he did this his friends were not bored; they would sit there and split their sides with amusement. And now Monsieur Pujol was laughing himself, cracking jokes as he covertly watched his clients. From where she and Mary sat near the door, Stephen could hear his loud, jovial laughter. ‘Lord,’ sighed Pat, unenlivened as yet by the beer; ‘ some people do seem to feel real good this evening.’ Wanda, who disliked the ingratiating Pujol, and whose nerves were on edge, had begun to grow angry. She had caught a particularly gross blasphemy, gross even for this age of stupid blaspheming. ‘ Le salaud! ’ she shouted, then, inflamed by drink, an epithet even less complimentary. ‘ Hush up, do!’ exclaimed the scandalized Pat, hastily grip. ping Wanda’s shoulder. But Wanda was out to defend her faith, and she did it in somewhat peculiar language.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  9 Silver that has been beaten [into plates] is brought from a Tarshish, And gold from b Uphaz, The work of the craftsman and of the hand of the goldsmith; Violet and purple are their clothing; They are all the work of skilled men. 10 But the LORD is the true God and the God who is Truth; He is the living God and the everlasting King. The earth quakes and shudders at His wrath, And the nations are not able to endure His indignation. 11 In this manner you shall say to them, “The gods that did not make the heavens and the earth will perish from the earth and from under the heavens.” 12 God made the earth by His power; He established the world by His wisdom And by His understanding and skill He has stretched out the heavens. 13 When He utters His voice, there is a tumult of c waters in the heavens, And He causes the clouds and the mist to ascend from the end of the earth; He makes lightning for the rain, And brings out the wind from His treasuries and from His storehouses. 14 Every man has become [like a brute] irrational and stupid, without knowledge [of God]; Every goldsmith is shamed by his carved idols; For his molten images are frauds and lies, And there is no breath in them. 15 They are worthless and devoid of promise, a work of delusion and mockery; In their time of [trial and] punishment they will perish [without hope]. 16 The Portion of Jacob [the true God on whom Israel has a claim] is not like these; For He is the Designer and Maker of all things, And Israel is the tribe of His inheritance [and He will not fail them]— The LORD of hosts is His name. 17 Gather up your bundle [of goods] from the ground, You who live under siege. 18 For thus says the LORD ; “Behold, I am slinging out at this time the people of this land, And will cause them [great] distress, That they may find it [to be as I have said].” 19 “Woe to me because of my [spiritual] brokenness!” [says Jeremiah, speaking for the nation.] “My wound is incurable.” But I said, “Surely this sickness and suffering and grief are mine, And I must bear it.” 20 My tent is destroyed, And all my [tent] cords are broken; My children have been taken from me [as captives] and are no more. There is no one to stretch out my tent again And to set up my [tent] curtains. 21 For the shepherds [of the people] have become [like brutes,] irrational and stupid, And have not searched for the LORD or asked about Him or realized their need for Him; Therefore they have not been wise and have not prospered, And all their flocks are scattered. 22 The sound of a report!

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  19 Desire realized is sweet to the soul; But it is detestable to fools to turn away from evil [which they have planned]. 20 He who walks [as a companion] with wise men will be wise, But the companions of [conceited, dull-witted] fools [are fools themselves and] will experience harm. [Is 32:6 ] 21 Adversity pursues sinners, But the [consistently] upright will be rewarded with prosperity. 22 A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, And the wealth of the sinner is stored up for [the hands of] the righteous. 23 Abundant food is in the fallow (uncultivated) ground of the poor, But [without protection] it is swept away by injustice. 24 He who withholds the rod [of discipline] hates his son, But he who loves him disciplines and trains him diligently and appropriately [with wisdom and love]. [Prov 19:18 ; 22:15 ; 23:13 ; 29:15 , 17 ; Eph 6:4 ] 25 The [consistently] righteous has enough to satisfy his appetite, But the stomach of the wicked is in need [of bread]. Proverbs 14 Contrast the Upright and the Wicked 1 T he wise woman builds her house [on a foundation of godly precepts, and her household thrives], But the foolish one [who lacks spiritual insight] tears it down with her own hands [by ignoring godly principles]. 2 He who walks in uprightness [reverently] fears the LORD [and obeys and worships Him with profound respect], But he who is devious in his ways despises Him. 3 In the mouth of the [arrogant] a fool [who rejects God] is a rod for his back, But the lips of the wise [when they speak with godly wisdom] will protect them. 4 Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, But much revenue [because of good crops] comes by the strength of the ox. 5 A faithful and trustworthy witness will not lie, But a false witness speaks lies. 6 A scoffer seeks wisdom and finds none [for his ears are closed to wisdom], But knowledge is easy for one who understands [because he is willing to learn]. 7 Leave the presence of a [shortsighted] fool, For you will not find knowledge or hear godly wisdom from his lips. 8 The wisdom of the sensible is to understand his way, But the foolishness of [shortsighted] fools is deceit. 9 Fools mock sin [but sin mocks the fools], But among the upright there is good will and the favor and blessing of God. [Prov 10:23 ] 10 The heart knows its own bitterness, And no stranger shares its joy. 11 The house of the wicked will be overthrown, But the tent of the upright will thrive. 12 There is a way which seems right to a man and appears straight before him, But its end is the way of death. 13 Even in laughter the heart may be in pain, And the end of joy may be grief.

• From The Beautiful Room Is Empty (1988)

  One night I talked with a woman who explained to me she’d had her sex changed. “My husband doesn’t even suspect I was once a guy. We live in a huge housing development. We even have our own shopping center, can you believe. One day at the mall I saw another post-op also passing. She’s never told her old man neither. Anyway, we’re best girlfriends, we watch the soaps together. But sometimes I get lonely for gay guys. You gay guys do know how to have fun.” A man I’d met at a bar invited me to the house he’d rented in Cherry Grove on Fire Island. The house had a name, “The Wicked Witch’s Ding-Dong,” and the instant we arrived my host put on a silk caftan and mixed cocktails in the blender out of crème de menthe and milk. He made a cognac icebox pie with a graham cracker crust and started his famous key lime chicken basted in rum, but then he began to drink those cocktails with the neighbors, Bill and “Dot.” We all sat on the small front porch, while the others evaluated each passing number. “She buys her polka-dot schmattes at F.A.O. Schwarz.” “That one told me she’s got an inner beauty, but she could die with the secret.” “Here’s Edwina—she lost her husband to that slut over on Tuna,” naming a boardwalk in the next community, the far classier Pines, where most of the renters were still heterosexuals. On and on they went, dishing every passerby. My host, drunk and belligerent by now, told me that the usual thing was for a guest to bring a quart of J&B scotch for the weekend. Shamefaced, I scuttled down to the liquor store and rushed back the requisite tribute. The burned chicken was served at midnight, but we were all too smashed to do anything except toy with the cinders. We went dancing at the disco, where by local law every group of men had to include at least one woman. At last I escaped to the Meat Rack, that stretch of scrub pines and sassafras bushes that lay between the ocean and the bay. I was so sad about losing Sean that I felt my life was over. In the mirror, we’d looked into our reflections as though we were contemplating an allegory whose symbolism had been lost but that was still replete with meaning, a serenade on the grass that may speak of sacred and profane love or of the Platonic love of wisdom or of Meleager’s love of Atalanta—but love in any case, some strong form of love.

• From Another Country (1962)

  She started to wake him, but left him there, and tiptoed into the room where Paul and Michael slept. Paul lay on his belly, the sheet tangled at his feet, and his arms thrown up. With a shock, she saw how heavy he was, and how tall: he was already at the outer edge of his boyhood. It had happened so fast, it seemed almost to have happened in a dream. She looked at the sleeping head and wondered what thoughts it contained, what judgments, watched one twitching leg and wondered what his dreams were now. Gently, she pulled the sheet up to his shoulders. She looked at the secretive Michael, curled on his side like a worm or an embryo, hands hidden between his legs, and the hair damp on his forehead. But she did not dare to touch his brow: he woke too easily. As quietly as possible, she retrieved his sheet from the floor and lay it over him. She left their room and walked into the bathroom. Then she heard, in the living room, Richard’s feet hit the floor. She washed her face, combed her hair, staring at her weary face in the mirror. Then she walked into the living room. Richard sat on the sofa, the glass of vodka in his hands, staring at the floor. “Hello,” she said, “What made you fall asleep in here?” She had left her handbag in the bathroom. She walked to the bar and picked up a package of cigarettes and lit one. She asked, mockingly, “You weren’t, were you, waiting up for me?” He looked at her, drained his glass, and held it out. “Pour me a drink. Pour yourself a drink, too.” She took his glass. Now, his face which in sleep had looked so young, looked old. A certain pain and terror passed through her. She thought, insanely, as she turned her back on him, of Cleopatra’s lament for Antony: His face was as the heavens. Was that right? She could not remember the rest of it. She poured two drinks, vodka for him, whiskey for her. The ice bucket was empty. “Do you want ice?” “No.” She handed him his drink. She poured a little water into her whiskey. She looked, covertly, at him again—her guilt began. His face was as the heavens, Wherein were set the stars and moon. “Sit down, Cass.” She left the bar and sat down in the easy chair facing him. She had left the cigarettes on the bar. Which kept their course and lighted, This little O, the earth. He asked, in a friendly tone, “Where are you just coming from, Cass?” He looked at his watch. “It’s past two o’clock.”