Passages records the books I'm reading, the live music I'm hearing, and the movies I'm seeing. Every now and then I'll throw in a passage from a book I read a while back or a trailer from a old favorite movie. Occasionally, there is something that simply caught my eye. But most of it is what I'm reading and hearing and watching in real time.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Long Time, No See

It was you, but it was his knock, you see a knock can carry anyone's signature on a day like that. I could have sworn. You know what it is son -- memory is a stranger who comes to call less and less.


And sometimes he's not welcome, if you know what I mean.

Dermot Healy, Long Time, No See

Sunday, July 21, 2013

The Devil's Dictionary

RELIGION, n. A daughter of Hope and Fear, explaining to Ignorance the nature of the Unknowable.

Ambrose Bierce, The Devil's Dictionary

Thursday, July 18, 2013


Sometimes it is foolish to articulate an ambition too early -- exposing it prematurely to the laughter and skepticism of the world can destroy it before it is even properly born. But sometimes the opposite occurs, and the very act of mentioning a thing makes it suddenly seem possible, even plausible. That was how it was that night.

Robert Harris, Imperium

Saturday, July 13, 2013

The Son

"It ain't like our daddies grew up here, Pete. It ain't like people have lived here long. This is just the place they happened to stop."

"The fences got all of us," I said.

Phillipp Meyer, The Son

Thursday, July 4, 2013

Personal Memoirs

My family is American, and has been for generations, in all its branches, direct and collateral.

Ulysses S. Grant, Personal Memoirs (1885)

Huckleberry Finn

Well, the king he talked him blind; so at last he gave in, and said all right, but he said it was blamed foolishness to stay, and that doctor hanging over them. But the king says:

"Cuss the doctor! What do we k'yer for him? Hain't we got all the fools in town on our side? And ain't that a big enough majority in any town?"

Monday, July 1, 2013


I don't remember either of my parents ever reading me a story -- perhaps that's why I've made up so many. They were good parents, but just not story readers. In 1936, when I was born, the Depression sat heavily on all but the most fortunate, a group that didn't include us. My McMurtry grandparents were both still alive, and my mother and father and I lived in their house, which made for frequent difficulties. Sometimes there was a cook and a resident cowboy -- where they bunked, I'm not sure. The fifty yards or so between the house and the barn boiled with poultry. My first enemies were hens, roosters, peacocks, turkeys. We ate lots of the hens, but our consumption of turkeys, peacocks, and roosters was, to my young mind, inexcusably low.

Larry McMurtry, Books