Tenderness

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.

Page 83 of 145 · 20 per page

• From The Incendiaries (2018)

  I found wine; I poured two large portions, then a third, in case Julian wanted his own. Hands full, I picked a path through the paint-stained, strewn bodies of Liesl’s cast. It was the play’s final night. In ripped tulle, howling, actors had flitted across the blacklit stage. They pelted the back wall with vines, then fell in piles. I still wasn’t sure what I’d seen; when I asked Julian if he could fill me in, he whispered, Believe me, it’s my third time watching this, oh, exhibit, and I’ve quit raising questions. I’ve filed it with all the world’s riddles that lack solutions. What’s life, and so forth. I sat down with Julian and his friend again. Liesl lifted a mottled face, the veil lopsided. I adore you, she said, taking the glass. She leaned forward; when she settled back, the costume slipped to the side. Panties showed: a strip of cloth, flashing red. Julian readjusted the lace rags. Underpants, angel, he said. She laughed, jolting the drink. Jules, tell Phoebe about the time we dressed up the Hale statue, she said. Oh, Christ, the— Catgut! They both doubled up, barely able to talk. In high school, they gasped. It was a stunt they’d pulled. This recollection led to others, old tales, boarding-school hijinks, but it was all right. I laughed along. Julian, tired, slid down, leaning his head on my thigh. I kissed the white line of his part. I’d wait. If for a short while, Julian had split himself open. Now pain, like light, leaked through his cracked surface. Within days, he’d tell me about the brother who died before he was born. I can’t live up to him, he’d explain. He’s the ideal, this ghoul sibling. Since I exist, I can’t help upsetting them. Liesl licked spilled alcohol from the back of a hand, and I thought of the whine she’d used to tell Julian she wanted a drink, the expectation that he, a man, would hop to her bidding. I once heard him ask Liesl where she learned to manipulate men. Stepfathers, plural, she told him, lifting one side of a thin-lipped mouth as though it were a joke. I hadn’t talked much with Liesl, but I would: in time, she’d confide in me, as well. The dad she’d idolized, who left; the men like beads on the string of a furious mother’s life. The anorexic spells. She’d been locked up in a clinic. Obliged to eat, to weigh in. Like a pig for the kill, she said. –

• From Hot Rods: Gay Erotic Stories (2011)

  I want you to make love to me.” For a moment, think that these words might scare you into softening, that too much tenderness might put you off, but the desperation and hunger in his voice keep you hard and make you enfold him and raise him up, and yourself, onto all fours so his hands are on the wall behind the bed and you are holding him, spooning, Big C against little c, the opening of quotation marks. Say: “You’re my baby. My beautiful, beautiful baby.” And he says, yes, he says, yes, he says: “Make love to me.” You think he might cry. You cannot see his face, but you know his eyes are closed and he is easing himself into this newfound role, this place he has not been to before. Say: “Why did you come up to me at the exhibition?” Say: “What made you talk to me?” Smile when he says: “You talked to me.” You like being bigger and older. You like it when he calls you “Mister Professor.” You like that his whole body fits into yours, like a Russian doll. You are his shell and his flesh. He is skin and bone and you love it. He is everything you wanted to be at his age. Think of envy and the number of times you have seduced men you’ve wanted to be. Tall skinny men; men, admit it, with zero percent body fat. Muscles are not important to you. Be glad. Enjoy his body. Enjoy the way your boy pushes himself back into you so that you can go deeper. Go deeper. Fold your arms around his chest and pull him to you. Roll onto your back and carry him with you so that he lies with his back against your chest, his long brown hair falling into your face. Let it fall. Thrust into him. You like that word: Thrust. You like words like shove and ram and bang. Say these words to him, or think them. Think about banging and thrusting and slamming into him. And do it. Lift his body, lift his whole body with your body and push into him with each upward movement, and as you come back onto the bed pull him against you. Keep your arms around him. Tell him: “Arch your back,” so that he can press against you, draw you deeper into him. You have been told that you are good at this. There are men who call you especially for this, who fall in love with you just because you can do this to them: make them feel like your boy. Think about your parents and about lovemaking. You were never a Daddy before your father died. You were the age your boy is now when you lost him. It’s been ten years since the death of your father. Don’t feel guilty about these thoughts. It’s just a game, this thing between you and your boy.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  3. It is the Gospel of the genuine and full humanity of Christ.1008 It gives us the key-note for the construction of a real history of Jesus from infancy to boyhood and manhood. Luke represents him as the purest and fairest among the children of men, who became like unto us in all things except sin and error. He follows him through the stages of his growth. He alone tells us that the child Jesus "grew and waxed strong," not only physically, but also in "wisdom" (Luke 2:40); he alone reports the remarkable scene in the temple, informing us that Jesus, when twelve years old, sat as a learner "in the midst of the doctors, both hearing them and asking questions;" and that, even after that time, He "advanced in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and men" (2:46, 52). All the Synoptists narrate the temptation in the wilderness, and Mark adds horror to the scene by the remark that Christ was "with the wild beasts" (Mark 1:12, meta; tw'n qhrivwn); but Luke has the peculiar notice that the devil departed from Jesus only "for a season." He alone mentions the tears of Jesus over Jerusalem, and "the bloody sweat" and the strengthening angel in the agony of Gethsemane. As he brings out the gradual growth of Jesus, and the progress of the gospel from Nazareth to Capernaum, from Capernaum to Jerusalem, so afterwards, in the Acts, he traces the growth of the church from Jerusalem to Antioch, from Antioch to Ephesus and Corinth, from Greece to Rome. His is the Gospel of historical development. To him we are indebted for nearly all the hints that link the gospel facts with the contemporary history of the world. 4. It is the Gospel of universal humanity. It breathes the genuine spirit of charity, liberty, equality, which emanate from the Saviour of mankind, but are so often counterfeited by his great antagonist, the devil. It touches the tenderest chords of human sympathy. It delights in recording Christ’s love and compassion for the sick, the lowly, the despised, even the harlot and the prodigal. It mentions the beatitudes pronounced on the poor and the hungry, his invitation to the maimed, the halt, and the blind, his prayer on the cross for pardon of the wicked murderers, his promise to the dying robber. It rebukes the spirit of bigotry and intolerance of the Jews against Samaritans, in the parable of the good Samaritan. It reminds the Sons of Thunder when they were about to call fire from heaven upon a Samaritan village that He came not to destroy but to save. It tells us that "he who is not against Christ is for Christ," no matter what sectarian or unsectarian name he may bear.

• From Hot Rods: Gay Erotic Stories (2011)

  You are inside him. Call him beautiful. Call him things like: My baby. Sweet baby. Say: “You’re my beautiful boy.” Tell him how much you love being inside him. That his smooth, sweet body is yours now. He is thirty-four and you’re in your mid-forties. You are ten years older than him. He has never been anyone’s boy before, but it’s as if he’s been waiting all this time for someone like you. Be his Daddy. Listen when he tells you that he’s usually the top. “I’m always the one who fucks,” he says. So you say: “Do you like it this way now?” Say: “My boy.” He is on his back and you are inside him and he looks calmer and more content that he’s ever been. You’ve known him for three weeks, though it feels like longer. He’s a DJ. He is tall and skinny and Latin brown. You like tall skinny men. You like tall skinny men with long hair. You met him at an exhibition of a friend of yours, a woman painter who’s been doing a series of pieces about the London clubbing scene. Your boy sat for her with his long brown hair that falls halfway down his back, and his thick metal earrings and his shirt off, a life-sized swallow on his chest. If a dozen things were different he’d look like James Dean; he has the same wild, wiry energy in the painting and in life. Tell him he is beautiful. Tell him how peaceful he looks. Wonder if this calmness that you bring him is not too confusing, a result, perhaps, of your need to control him. You have been known to want to control. You are not unlike so many of us who have grown up unloved. You are not part of the clubbing scene. Your shiatsu guy says you should go dancing twice a week. “Even in your own living room,” he says. “Get more movement into your body.” He says you’ve got huge muscle mass but it’s become stagnant. “Stagnation,” he says, “is a word they use a lot in shiatsu.” And you think, as you go in and out of your boy, making him happy, that this must be the perfect movement, the perfect flowing gesture, this back and forth, this gentle back and forth in and out of another human being—it must be the most soothing and crazy-making…just fucking crazy-making…to have part of your body enter the body of another human being—so you turn him onto his side. Now hold him from behind. Hold him close to you. Your boy against his Daddy. Press your stomach to his back. Don’t move. Feel the bulk of your stomach against the concave of his smooth slim back, then start that gentle back and forth again. Say: “Is that nice?” Say: “Can I keep fucking you like this?” And he says, because he is a man who is Latin: “Make love to me, papi.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  Then he put his household in order, and hanged himself. So he died and was buried in the tomb of his father. 24 Then David came to Mahanaim. And Absalom crossed over the Jordan, he and all the men of Israel with him. 25 Absalom put Amasa in command of the army instead of Joab. Now Amasa was the son of a man named j Ithra the Israelite, who had married Abigail the daughter of Nahash, [the half sister of David and] the sister of Zeruiah, Joab’s mother. 26 So Israel and Absalom camped in the land of Gilead. 27 When David came to Mahanaim, Shobi the son of Nahash from Rabbah of the Ammonites, and Machir the son of Ammiel from Lo-debar, and Barzillai the Gileadite from Rogelim 28 brought beds, basins, pottery, wheat, barley, flour, roasted grain, broad beans, lentils, and [other] roasted grain, 29 honey, cream, sheep, and cheese of the herd, for David and the people who were with him, to eat; for they said, “The people are hungry and weary and thirsty in the wilderness.” 2 Samuel 18 Absalom’s Death 1 D AVID NUMBERED the men who were with him and set over them commanders of thousands and commanders of hundreds. 2 Then David sent the a army out, a third under the command of Joab, a third under Abishai the son of Zeruiah, Joab’s brother, and a third under the command of Ittai the Gittite. And the king said to the b men, “I myself will certainly go out [to fight] with you.” 3 But the men said, “You should not go out [to battle with us]. For if in fact we retreat, they will not care about us; even if half of us die, they will not care about us. But you are worth ten thousand of us. So now it is better that you be ready to help us from the city [of Mahanaim].” 4 Then the king said to them, “I will do whatever seems best to you.” So the king stood beside the gate [of Mahanaim], and all the army went out in groups of hundreds and of thousands. 5 The king commanded Joab and Abishai and Ittai, saying, “Deal gently with the young man Absalom for my sake.” And all the men heard when the king gave orders to all the commanders about Absalom. 6 So the men went out into the field against Israel, and the battle was fought in the forest of Ephraim. 7 The men of Israel [who supported Absalom] were defeated there by the c men of David, and a great slaughter took place there that day, 20,000 men. 8 For the battle there was spread out over the surface of the entire countryside, and the [hazards of the] forest devoured more men that day than did the sword. 9 Now Absalom met the servants of David.

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  30 The [tribe of] the sons of Dan set up the image [of silver-plated wood] for themselves; and Jonathan the son of Gershom, the son of c Moses, and his sons were priests to the tribe of the Danites until the day of the captivity and exile from the land. 31 So they set up for themselves Micah’s [silver-plated wooden] image which he had made, and kept it throughout the time that the house (tabernacle) of God was at Shiloh. Judges 19 A Levite’s Concubine Degraded 1 N OW IT happened in those days, when there was no king in Israel, that a certain Levite living [as an alien] in the most remote part of the hill country of Ephraim, who took a a concubine for himself from Bethlehem in Judah. 2 But his concubine was unfaithful to him, and left him and went to her father’s house in Bethlehem of Judah, and stayed there for a period of four months. 3 Then her husband arose and went after her to speak kindly and tenderly to her in order to bring her back, taking with him his servant and a pair of donkeys. So she brought him into her father’s house, and when the father of the girl saw him, he was happy to meet him. 4 So his father-in-law, the girl’s father, detained him; and he stayed there with him for three days. So they ate and drank, and he lodged there. 5 On the fourth day they got up early in the morning, and the Levite prepared to leave; but the girl’s father said to his son-in-law, “Strengthen yourself with a piece of bread, and afterward go your way.” 6 So both men sat down and ate and drank together; and the girl’s father said to the man, “Please be willing to spend the night and enjoy yourself.” 7 Then the man got up to leave, but his father-in-law urged him [strongly to remain]; so he spent the night there again. 8 On the fifth day he got up early in the morning to leave, but the girl’s father said, “Please strengthen yourself, and wait until the end of the day.” So both of them ate. 9 When the man and his concubine and his servant got up to leave, his father-in-law, the girl’s father, said to him, “Behold, now the day has drawn to a close; please spend the night. Look, now the day comes to an end; spend the night here and celebrate, enjoy yourself. Then tomorrow you may get up early for your journey and go b home.” 10 But the man was not willing to stay the night; so he got up and left and came to a place opposite Jebus (that is Jerusalem). With him were two saddled donkeys [and his servant] and his concubine.

• From Vox (1992)

  139 hand going over my skin, blinking at it. I pulled the sides of my shorts up higher so he could do more of my thighs, and I said, 'Leona is very thorough. No follicle is left unmolested.' Then, whoops, I wondered whether that was maybe too kinky for him and whether he might think that I was trying to give him the idea that Leona had gone over the edge and waxed off all my pubic hair, horrifying thought, so I said, 'I mean, within limits. ' He just kept on dolloping oil on his fingers and rubbing it in. After a while I turned around and held on to the showerhead and he did the backs of my legs. He wasn't artful at all, he didn't know how to knead the deep mus cles, but I could feel the intelligence and interest in his fingers when they came to each new dry curve. His hands went right up underneath the bagginess of my shorts. I liked that. He didn't say anything. Once I think he cleared his throat. Finally he said, 'Okay, I think that's everything.' I turned around and looked down at him: he was sitting with his legs crossed, looking at my legs, very closely, really letting his eyes travel over them. He had curly hair—he needed a haircut, in fact. He had the top of the olive oil in one hand and the bottle in the other, and before he stood up he pressed the circle of the plastic top back and forth up the inside of both my legs, in a zigzag. Then he stood up and handed me the bottle. He was blushing. I smiled at him and I said, 'Are you suffering from any sticking or clumping?' And he said, 'Yeah, some.' So I pulled on the waistband of

• From Vox (1992)

  98 bad happens between Emily and him, basically it's just that he makes it clear that he likes flirting with her but forget it, he's married. She tells me about it in the park- ing lot, she's near tears, and then she squats and holds on to the side mirror of my car and looks in it and she says, 'Well well—/ look convincingly haggard.' That was her best line—in fact it probably makes her seem more vul- nerable and lovable than she really is. That's not fair— she's very nice. So anyway, for the next full week I talked with her about Lee and talked with her about Lee, every possible angle on the situation, though I avoided telling her that I found him repulsive and childish, but other- wise we ventilated the topic fully. Finally I couldn't stand to talk about him anymore, and I said, 'Look, I have to ask your advice.' Because what she obviously needed was to have her mind off her own troubles. It was six, we were again leaving work. And somehow, by pure luck, this was the perfect exact second to ask her advice: she just about crumpled with relief and helpfulness, and she pointed to a café across the street and she said, 'Why don't we go in there?' So over a pair of up-signal caffè lattes, I told her the problem. I pulled out a piece of newspaper, and I unfolded it, and I looked at it, and I looked at her, and then I looked at it again, and then I told her that I was thinking of running a personals ad requesting something very specific. And she was politely curious about this, so I said, 'This is what I was thinking of saying, ' and I handed it to her. It was the personals ad

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The damsel, being thus fully informed both of his name and parentage, thereby with subtle craft laid her plans for giving effect to her desire and returning home, set the old woman awork for the rest of the day, so she might not avail to return to Andreuccio. Then, calling a maid of hers, whom she had right well lessoned unto such offices, she despatched her, towards evensong, to the inn where Andreuccio lodged. As chance would have it, she found him alone at the door and enquired at him of himself. He answered that he was the man she sought, whereupon she drew him aside and said to him, 'Sir, an it please you, a gentlewoman of this city would fain speak with you.' Andreuccio, hearing this, considered himself from head to foot and himseeming he was a handsome varlet of his person, he concluded (as if there were no other well-looking young fellow to be found in Naples,) that the lady in question must have fallen in love with him. Accordingly, he answered without further deliberation that he was ready and asked the girl when and where the lady would speak with him; whereto she answered, 'Sir, whenas it pleaseth you to come, she awaiteth you in her house'; and Andreuccio forthwith rejoined, without saying aught to the people of the inn, 'Go thou on before; I will come after thee.' Thereupon the girl carried him to the house of her mistress, who dwelt in a street called Malpertugio,[96] the very name whereof denoteth how reputable a quarter it is. But he, unknowing neither suspecting aught thereof and thinking to go to most honourable place and to a lady of quality, entered the house without hesitation,--preceded by the serving-maid, who called her mistress and said, 'Here is Andreuccio,'--and mounting the stair, saw the damsel come to the stairhead to receive him. Now she was yet in the prime of youth, tall of person, with a very fair face and very handsomely dressed and adorned. As he drew near her, she came down three steps to meet him with open arms and clasping him round the neck, abode awhile without speaking, as if hindered by excess of tenderness; then kissed him on the forehead, weeping, and said, in a somewhat broken voice, 'O my Andreuccio, thou art indeed welcome.' [Footnote 96: _i.e._ ill hole.]

• From The Decameron (1353)

  [Footnote 273: Or "augured well from the hearing of the name." _Carapresa_ signifies "a dear or precious prize, gain or capture."] Carapresa, like a good woman as she was, hearing this, left her in her hut, whilst she hastily gathered up her nets; then, returning to her, she wrapped her from head to foot in her own mantle and carried her to Susa, where she said to her, 'Costanza, I will bring thee into the house of a very good Saracen lady, whom I serve oftentimes in her occasions and who is old and pitiful. I will commend thee to her as most I may and I am very certain that she will gladly receive thee and use thee as a daughter; and do thou, abiding with her, study thine utmost, in serving her, to gain her favour, against God send thee better fortune.' And as she said, so she did. The lady, who was well stricken in years, hearing the woman's story, looked the girl in the face and fell a-weeping; then taking her by the hand, she kissed her on the forehead and carried her into her house, where she and sundry other women abode, without any man, and wrought all with their hands at various crafts, doing divers works of silk and palm-fibre and leather. Costanza soon learned to do some of these and falling to working with the rest, became in such favour with the lady and the others that it was a marvellous thing; nor was it long before, with their teaching, she learnt their language.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  But Tony, while yelling, was as game as a ferret, and, more- over, the Airedale had him by the back, so Stephen got hastily out of the car — it seemed only a matter of moments for Tony. She grabbed the old rip by the scruff of his neck, while the butcher dashed off for a bucket of water. The desperate young woman seized her dog by a leg; she pulled, Stephen pulled, they both pulled together. Then Stephen gave a punishing twist which dis- tracted the Airedale, he wanted to bite her; having only one mouth he must let go of Tony, who was instantly clasped to his owner’s bosom. The butcher arrived on the scene with his bucket while Stephen was still clinging to the Airedale’s collar. “I’m so sorry, Miss Gordon, I do hope you’re not hurt? ’ ‘Tm all right. Here, take this grey devil and thrash him; he’s no business to eat up a dog half his size.’ Meanwhile, Tony was dripping all over with gore, and his mistress, it seemed, had got herself bitten. She alternately strug- gled to staunch Tony’s wounds and to suck her own hand which was bleeding freely. ‘Better give me your dog and come across to the chemist, your hand will want dressing,’ remarked Stephen. Tony was instantly put into her arms, with a rather pale smile that suggested a breakdown. ‘It’s quite all right now,’ said Stephen quickly, very much afraid the young woman meant to cry. ‘ Will he live, do you think? ’ inquired a weak voice. ‘ Yes, of course; but your hand — come along to the chemist.’ ‘Oh, never mind that, I’m thinking of Tony!’ 144 THE WELE OF LONELINESS ‘He’s all right. We'll take him straight off to the vet when your hand’s been seen to; there’s quite a good one.’ The chemist applied fairly strong carbolic; the hand had been bitten on two of the fingers, and Stephen was impressed by the pluck of this stranger, who set her small teeth and endured in silence. The hand bandaged they drove along to the vet, who was fortunately in and could sew up poor Tony. Stephen held his front paws, while his mistress held his head as best she could in her own maimed condition. She kept pressing his face against her shoulder, presumably so that he should not see the needle. ‘Don’t look, darling — you mustn’t look at it, honey!’ Stephen heard her whispering to Tony. At last he too was carbolicked and bandaged, and Stephen had time to examine her companion. It occurred to her that she had better introduce herself, so she said: ‘ I’m Stephen Gordon.’ ‘And I’m Angela Crossby,’ came the reply; ‘ weve taken The Grange, just the other side of Upton.’

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  But apparently Peter could not trust her at all, for he squawked to his mate who came out through the bushes, and she hissed in her turn, flapping strong angry wings, which meant in mere language: ‘ Get out of this, Stephen, you clumsy, inade- quate, ludicrous creature; you destroyer of nests, you disturber of young, you great wingless blot on a beautiful morning! ’ Then they both hissed together: ‘ Get out of this, Stephen! ’ So Stephen left them to the care of their cygnets. Remembering Raftery, she walked to the stables, where all was confusion and purposeful bustle. Old Williams was ruthlessly out on the warpath; he was scolding: ‘ Drat the boy, what be ’e a-doin’? Come on, do! ’Urry up, get them two horses bridled, and don’t go forgettin’ their knee-caps this mornin’ — and that bucket there don’t belong where it’s standin’, nor that broom! Did Jim take the roan to the blacksmith’s? Gawd almighty, why not? ’Er shoes is like paper! "Ere, you Jim, don’t you go on ig- norin’ my orders, if you do — Come on, boy, got them two horses ready? Right, well then, up you go! You don’t want no saddle, like as not you’d give ’im a gall if you ’ad one! The sleek, good-looking hunters were led out in clothing — for the early spring mornings were still rather nippy — and among them came Raftery, slender and skittish; he was wearing his hood, and his eyes peered out bright as a falcon’s from the twe neatly braiced eye-holes. From a couple more holes in the top of his head-dress, shot his small, pointed ears, which now worked with excitement. © Old on!’ bellowed Williams, ‘ What the ’ell be you doin’? Quick, shorten ’is bridle, yer not in a circus!” And then seeing Stephen: < Beg pardon, Miss Stephen, but it be a fair crime not to lead that horse close, and ’im all corned up until ’e’s fair dancin’! ’ THE WELL OF LONELINESS 115 They stood watching Raftery skip through the gates, then old Williams said softly: ‘ E do be a wonder — more nor fifty odd years ‘ave I worked in the stables, and never no beast ’ave I loved like Raftery. But ’e’s no common horse, ’e be some sort of Christian, and a better one too than a good few I knows on —’ And Stephen answered: ‘ Perhaps he’s a poet like his name- sake; I think if he could write he’d write verses. They say all the Irish are poets at heart, so perhaps they pass on the gift to their horses.’ Then the two of them smiled, each a little embarrassed, but their eyes held great friendship the one for the other, a friendship of years now cemented by Raftery whom they loved — and small wonder, for assuredly never did more gallant or courteous horse step out of stable.

• From Vox (1992)

  120 would complicate things, it would have been a mistake. I could have come anytime. But suddenly the scene ended—one man suddenly comes on the woman's face and breasts, the other pulls out and comes on her bush, with strikingly white sperm. Emily wasn't fazed. She said, 'Do you mind if I rewind a little?' I said no, so she rewound it and replayed some of the two cocks. When it started playing, she said, kind of softly, 'I think I want to come to this scene.' I said, 'Okay.' But again the scene ended too quickly for her, and she had to rewind it a third time. This time, I just looked at her, she was flushed, her cheeks were shiny, she looked so trans formed and sexual and elegant, and I looked down and both her hands were converging under the blanket, both wrists arched, so that her arms sort of pushed her breasts in from the sides, and I said, 'Can I touch your arm?' and she nodded, and I put my fingertips very lightly on the inside of her forearm, just above her wrist, and I felt her tendon going and going as she stroked herself, and this indirect feeling of being able to take the pulse of her masturbating was too much, I said, 'I think I'm going to come,' and I started to come into the blanket, and when the first guy in the movie came on the heroine, Emily closed her legs and started to come herself, and when the second guy came on the heroine, Emily was still com ing, but not with any thrashing around, very focused, but I could hear the shaking of her legs slightly in her breath ing. It was really a wonderful experience. She picked up

• From Amplified Holy Bible (2015)

  23 Then the king said, “This woman says, ‘This is my son, the one who is alive, and your son is the dead one’; and the other woman says, ‘No! For your son is the dead one, and my son is the one who is alive.’ ” 24 Then the king said, “Bring me a sword.” So they brought a sword before the king. 25 Then the king said, “Cut the living child in two, and give half to the one [woman] and half to the other.” 26 Then the woman whose child was the living one spoke to the king, for she was deeply moved over her son, “O my lord, give her the living child, and by no means kill him.” But the other said, “He shall be neither mine nor yours; cut him! ” 27 Then the king said, “Give the first woman [who is pleading for his life] the living child, and by no means kill him. She is his mother.” 28 When all [the people of] Israel heard about the judgment which the king had made, they [were in awe and reverently] feared the king, for they saw that the wisdom of God was within him to administer justice. 1 Kings 4 Solomon’s Officials 1 K ING SOLOMON was king over all [the people of] Israel. 2 These were his [chief] officials: Azariah the a son of Zadok was the high priest; 3 Elihoreph and Ahijah the sons of Shisha, were scribes; Jehoshaphat the son of Ahilud was the recorder [of important events]; 4 Benaiah the son of Jehoiada was in command of the army; Zadok and Abiathar were priests; 5 Azariah the son of Nathan was in charge of the deputies; Zabud the son of Nathan was priest and was the king’s friend [and trusted advisor]; 6 Ahishar was in charge of the household (palace); and Adoniram the son of Abda was in charge of the forced labor. 7 Solomon had twelve deputies over all Israel, who b secured provisions for the king and his household; each man had to provide for a month in the year.

• From Vox (1992)

  I remember once going to an arty movie with Richard Dreyfuss in it, I think, a long time ago, called Inserts , that had an X rating, and wasn’t very good, by the way, full of the grimness that films get into when they try to make art out of porn, so uncheerful, but the thing about the experience was that it was a legitimate movie, but because of the X rating, it was playing in a porn theater, this was sometime in the seventies, and I remember seeing a man and a woman walking up the slight slope from the ticket booth ahead of me, holding containers of popcorn, because the popcorn stand, which normally was completely shut down, had been reopened in honor of this legit, name-star film, and the couple went through the opening so they could hear the bad electronic music, and they turned the corner, and then bang, they were in the darkness of the theater looking out over all those seats during the previews, which were of course previews of standard porn films, five or six of them, so on the screen there was this gigantic shot of somebody like Brigitte Monet sucking a huge horizontal cock, with loud squelching noises, and electronic octaves thumping away, and I saw the woman stop and flinch and grab her date’s arm and look at him pleadingly—‘You told me it wasn’t going to be this kind of thing!’—and her date made this awful horrified ‘I’m sorry’ face, and behind them I went ‘Tut tut tut’ in refined disapproval at what was on the screen, because I wanted both of them not to think they’d made a terrible mistake, I wanted her to still like him, I wanted women then, this was when I was maybe eighteen, to see why X-rated films were so wonderful, I still do in some ways, and it has happened, over the last fifteen years, with video, to a limited extent, though as you say you would still reach for the Victorian paperback if given the choice, and probably you are right—but I wanted to reassure this woman that it was okay, people like me were showing up at this theater, nonviolent normal intelligent men, it wasn’t the end of civilization—I made the disapproving sound even though the sight of the cocksucking wouldn’t have bothered me in the slightest if it were just me seeing it: I felt her tentativeness, and I wanted, sort of like a real estate agent who takes a special route to the house he’s showing that goes through the nicer, fancier streets, I wanted her to be squired gently toward the graphic image of a come-shot, and to have a good experience here, not to leave disturbed by male tastes, the same feeling I have sometimes when I see foreign tourists in some city I know walking around bewildered in some downtown area, and I can tell that they’re disappointed, and I want to go up to them and say, ‘I know this is the standard guidebook thing you are doing, but forget it, this isn’t our city really, go see this neighborhood and that neighborhood’—I wanted chivalrously to save that woman from the giant crude cock of the coming attraction, just the same way I used to think when I was little of swimming up toward the surface holding a woman in trouble and letting her use my scuba mouthpiece, and carrying her up on the boat and taking off her wet cold wetsuit and toweling her off as she got her breath and shook her head at her close call.” “ ‘Oh, thank you, Popeye, for saving me from that large low-born cock!’ ” “Exactly. Anyway—do you still want to hear this?” “Yes.” “Okay. Anyway, there was the preview, which was for some terrible-looking post-Caligula post-Devil in Miss Jones kind of movie, with lots of gratuitous grotesquerie, stuff I hate, torchlit sets, dwarves, but in the midst of that stuff of course there were, bang, these shocking pure normal sex scenes, whose abruptness I felt through Emily, because Emily was my guest on my couch watching them. Then the preview was over, and the ATOM logo came on and focused itself again, and I looked over at her.

• From Vox (1992)

  Then I follow the bottom edge horizontally around, under your arms, until I just reach the seam where a cup begins, and you feel all this somewhat dimly, because it’s through your shirt and through the bra, but you are more aware now of the shape of the bra that you’re wearing, and then I go back to the fastener and I make that time-honored pinching move and release the hooks through your shirt, and each side pulls away, and now I feel that I have this perfect central stretch with no interruption, and I press my left palm between your shoulder blades and slide slowly down, moving your shirt, feeling wrinkles in it form and pass, and I can feel some slight bumps of your backbone—what a beautiful back, so warm. I want very much to feel your skin. So I put both hands on your hips and hook my two thumbs and index fingers under the bottom edge of your shirt, or no, I grab hold of it on either side and pull it, because it was tucked into your pants, and I pull it out, and then I hook my hands underneath, and I can feel your skin move slightly as my fingers first touch it, just above your hips, and I run my fingers back along the inside of your waistband, and I can feel the warmth of your ass, and then I flatten my hands against your back and slide them up under your shirt, ah, all the way up so the fingers come out and go a little way along the nape of your neck into your hair before subsiding. It’s a loose shirt, don’t worry.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  In July of the same year (1522), Zwingli, with ten other priests, sent a Latin petition to the bishop, and a German petition to the Swiss Diet, to permit the free preaching of the gospel and the marriage of the clergy as the only remedy against the evils of enforced celibacy. He quotes the Scriptures for the divine institution and right of marriage, and begs the confederates to permit what God himself has sanctioned. He sent both petitions to Myconius in Lucerne for signatures. Some priests approved, but were afraid to sign; others said the petition was useless, and could only be granted by the pope or a council.79 The petition was not granted. Several priests openly disobeyed. One married even a nun of the convent of Oetenbach (1523); Reubli of Wyticon married, April 28, 1523; Leo Judae, Sept. 19, 1523. Zwingli himself entered into the marriage relation in 1522,80 but from prudential reasons he did not make it public till April 5, 1524 (more than a year before Luther’s marriage, which took place June 13, 1525). Such cases of secret marriage were not unfrequent; but it would have been better for his fame if, as a minister and reformer, he had exercised self-restraint till public opinion was ripe for the change. His wife, Anna Reinhart,81 was the widow of Hans Meyer von Knonau,82 the mother of three children, and lived near Zwingli. She was two years older than he. His enemies spread the report that he married for beauty and wealth; but she possessed only four hundred guilders besides her wardrobe and jewelry. She ceased to wear her jewelry after marrying the Reformer. We have only one letter of Zwingli to his wife, written from Berne, Jan. 11, 1528, in which he addresses her as his dearest house-wife.83 From occasional expressions of respect and affection for his wife, and from salutations of friends to her, we must infer that his family life was happy; but it lacked the poetic charm of Luther’s home. She was a useful helpmate in his work.84 She contributed her share towards the creation of pastoral family life, with its innumerable happy homes.85 In Zwingli’s beautiful copy of the Greek Bible (from the press of Aldus in Venice, 1518), which is still preserved and called "Zwingli’s Bible," he entered with his own hand a domestic chronicle, which records the names, birthdays, and sponsors of his four children, as follows: "Regula Zwingli, born July 13, 1524;86 Wilhelm Zwingli, born January 29, 1526;87 Huldreich Zwingli, born Jan. 6, 1528;88 Anna Zwingli, born May 4, 1530."89 His last male descendant was his grandson, Ulrich, professor of theology, born 1556, died 1601. The last female descendant was his great-granddaughter, Anna Zwingli, who presented his MS. copy of the Greek Epistles of Paul to the city library of Zurich in 1634.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  2. The sermon381 was a familiar exposition of Scripture and exhortation to repentance and a holy life, and gradually assumed in the Greek church an artistic, rhetorical character. Preaching was at first free to every member who had the gift of public speaking, but was gradually confined as an exclusive privilege of the clergy, and especially the bishop. Origen was called upon to preach before his ordination, but this was even then rather an exception. The oldest known homily, now recovered in full (1875), is from an unknown Greek or Roman author of the middle of the second century, probably before A.D. 140 (formerly ascribed to Clement of Rome). He addresses the hearers as "brothers" and "sisters," and read from manuscript.382 The homily has no literary value, and betrays confusion and intellectual poverty, but is inspired by moral earnestness and triumphant faith. It closes with this doxology: "To the only God invisible, the Father of truth, who sent forth unto us the Saviour and Prince of immortality, through whom also He made manifest unto us the truth and the heavenly life, to Him be the glory forever and ever. Amen."383 3. Prayer. This essential part of all worship passed likewise from the Jewish into the Christian service. The oldest prayers of post-apostolic times are the eucharistic thanksgivings in the Didache, and the intercession at the close of Clement’s Epistle to the Corinthians, which seems to have been used in the Roman church.384 It is long and carefully composed, and largely interwoven with passages from the Old Testament. It begins with an elaborate invocation of God in antithetical sentences, contains intercession for the afflicted, the needy, the wanderers, and prisoners, petitions for the conversion of the heathen, a confession of sin and prayer for pardon (but without a formula of absolution), and closes with a prayer for unity and a doxology. Very touching is the prayer for rulers then so hostile to the Christians, that God may grant them health, peace, concord and stability. The document has a striking resemblance to portions of the ancient liturgies which begin to appear in the fourth century, but bear the names of Clement, James and Mark, and probably include some primitive elements.385 The last book of the Apostolical Constitutions contains the pseudo- or post-Clementine liturgy, with special prayers for believers, catechumens, the possessed, the penitent, and even for the dead, and a complete eucharistic service.386 The usual posture in prayer was standing with outstretched arms in Oriental fashion.

• From Vox (1992)

  While we were walking out to the car he said, ‘I guess those elephants really respond to training.’ He thought the elephant wasn’t biting the woman’s leg, but rather that its tongue was actually hooked under her knee. I was dubious, but it was an interesting idea. It was touching to see how pleased Lawrence was that I’d liked the circus. We were standing out by my car in the parking lot, just drenched with sweat, he was plucking at his shirt and squinting at me, and we were supposed to go to this clam-shack place and have an early dinner on a picnic table outside, and I just didn’t want to do that. So I thought what the hell, and I said, ‘You look hot. Why don’t you come back to my apartment and you’ll have a shower, and I’ll have a shower and then I’ll make some dinner and we’ll do the clam shack another time, okay?’ He agreed instantly—he was delighted to have the responsibility for the success of this date taken out of his hands. So he had a shower, and I happened to have a pair of very baggy shorts with an elastic waistband that fit him fine, and a big T-shirt, and then I had a shower, and I put on a pair of shorts and a dark red T-shirt, and everything was fine.” “But separate showers, no nudity.” “No, very chaste,” she said. “What was he doing when you got out of the shower?” “He was peering inside a Venetian paperweight.” “Classic. He’d obviously heard your shower turn off, and then he’d stood there, holding the paperweight to his face for ten minutes, so that you would be sure to discover him in that casual pose, appreciating your trinket.” “Quite possible. Anyhow, he sat in the kitchen and we talked rather formally while I made a spiral kind of pasta and microwaved a packet of creamed chipped beef—this is a great dish, incidentally, Stouffer’s creamed chipped beef over any kind of pasta noodles—I have it about once a week. Lawrence made an elaborate pretense of being impressed by this super easy recipe, and when I poured the spirals from the drainer into a bowl he came over to where I was standing and he said, ‘I have to see this.’

• From The Beautiful Room Is Empty (1988)

  Instantly I grasped that this funny, imaginative way of talking was a form of politeness, a way of conveying his distress in general terms without treating me to the unpleasant details. “Are you completely broke?” I asked, though I wanted to ask, “Who is this man?” “All my money is here,” he said, pointing to his glossy books and records. “If she can’t sling this hash, Mom will have to close the diner.” Every time Morris had started to substitute female for male pronouns, Tex had shut him up out of deference to my supposed innocence. Now Tex himself was inverting genders—was it a sign of embarrassment? “Who’s your man?” I asked. He slid off the stool behind the cash register and came over to me on the pink loveseat. His shoulders dropped. He was really very homely, with clammy skin, small boneless hands, a meager sparrow’s torso. When he took off his glasses, his eyes looked huge and wet. “You see, my lovers always turn out to be straight.” I must have looked confused, despite my efforts to appear all-comprehending, for he added, “Heterosexual, normal. My current beau is a cop, Bob, and I just paid three hundred bucks for his wife’s abortion.” “Does she know about you and Bob—what you are?” I asked, not quite sure what they were. How could a bona fide heterosexual like a queer? Tex lit a cigarette. He was strangely likable, despite his melancholy air—likable because he carried his whole story with him wherever he went, like the housekeeper who worked for my father and stepmother, scattering her ash in her tenth cup of coffee, chatting away about the men in her life, still wearing her bathrobe at three in the afternoon, her sympathy universal even when her understanding was partial. As for Tex, he was so intimate that he erased the distance between adolescent and adult. I had heard my mother and her friends discussing the “man problem”; now Tex was doing the same, and I was listening as a provisional equal. “I think she suspects her husband’s fooled around with me, but it suits her to look the other way. She knows they can count on me for loans, like for this abortion. They already have three kids. I like her and she knows it. We all go bowling together in Rogers Park when she’s not wore out.” “Then what’s the problem?” I asked briskly to cover my confusion. His novel way of looking at things was so human and unconventional. You could say he wore down the spikes of moral imperatives by holding things—dangerous explosive things—in his soft hands and turning them this way and that. At least right now, sitting beside me, he spoke of his cop, the wife, the abortion, the loans, the bowling evenings, with such domestic sighing familiarity that I took them all in the same way, his way, touched them all over in a friendly way.