Cut-Up #1

A cut up... check it out. I used over 10 different novels to make this. From November 2006

There was a little light in the room to which I was removed.  I crawled towards the bars of the narrow window, and had the delight of seeing the valley that lay below, and we all experienced the effect of rolling, as if the roof had become detached and turned into a raft. The swift currents seemed to be drifting us away. Then, when we looked at the church clock, immovable opposite us, the dizziness ceased; we found ourselves in the same place in the midst of the waves.

Then the water began an attack. Until then the stream had followed the street; but the debris that encumbered it deflected the course. And when a drifting object, these three machines, or perhaps that they are the same machine, constructed so as to travel both on land and water. Surely it could not fail to reach the eye of him for whom it was intended, wherever he might be. He would read well. Then he would begin to vacillate, remaining idle before the picture only to put it in the corner in hope of later inspiration. It was the same way with his various studies of feminine heads. Finding that he was never able to finish anything, he soon became resigned, like one who pants with fatigue before an obstacle waiting for a providential interposition to save him. The important thing was to be a painter . . . He lived during the night. His studio was a garret, or little better; his place of amusement a tavern-parlor, where his club held its nightly sittings over their pipes and sanded floor. You could not have society represented by men to whom it was not familiar. Men resort to so many evilish things! . . .

My heart was oppressed with inexpressible anguish.  Crouched in a corner, with my eyes fixed upon this dismal picture, I felt the cold slowly creeping upon me, and I said to myself with bitterness: "Let us die, since poverty is a dungeon guarded by suspicion, apathy, and contempt, and from which it is vain to try to escape; let us die, since there is no place for us at the banquet of the living!"

You have been washed. You had been washed. You will have been washed. You would have been washed. Be washed. To have been washed.

His lordship the Bishop, a sometime Vicar-General, fluctuates between the two powers. The good man's origin is distinctly plebeian. Out on the roads, on horseback, they rank half-way between the cure bearing the acquaintance we would fain have been spared. And then, also, we are likely enough to come across a hero or heroine as a child, after learning all about his or her tongue, which spake that hardy word.  Then one Maim'd of each hand, uplifted in the gloom The bleeding stumps, that they with gory spots Sullied his face, and brutally remarked to her, "I hope we shall sleep well to-night! There must be an end to this sort of childishness."

This remarkable woman, her nose was stubby and aggressive, and her mouth had the coldly forbidding look of the closed door of a subway express when you have just missed the train. It bade you keep your distance on pain of injury.

The little clearing on one side the house they thought would be its safeguard, but the fire was advancing on three sides of them.

"Let us hold a council, as the Indians do, to consider what is to be done."

Therese cast a deep, grave glance at him.

"You understand," he continued. "I did not marry for the purpose of passing sleepless nights. We are just like children. It was you who disturbed me with your ghostly airs. To-night you will try to be gay -

I am loved. I was loved. I shall be loved. I should be loved, Be loved. To be loved.

Whence heaping woe on woe he hurried off,
As one grief stung to madness.  But I there
Still linger'd to behold the troop, and saw
Things, such as I may fear without more proof
To tell of, but that conscience makes me firm,

"Oh, no fear, no fear," replied the Duke. "Gentlemen, good night. I
trust to hear, when in another land, that this bad affair has ended
without evil consequences to yourselves.  To the cause of your
sovereign it may be a great detriment; but I pray God that no whisper
of the matter may get abroad so as to affect his honour or bring
suspicion on his name.  Once more, good night!"