I have a confession to make. Even though you forgave me for the affair I had with Katerina all those years ago, I feel the need to confess to you now that there was never any affair. The love notes that you found in that old shoebox were written by me. The lipstick you discovered on my undershorts was applied by me. And all those nights I said I was working late? I was working late. The truth is, I don’t even know anybody named Katerina, except for that girl who used to groom the dog, and we both know she considered me a bad tipper.
Michael Ian Black, My Custom Van

Through Night (Series), 2012

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
Weekend, 2012

Weekend, 2012

But how can you expropriate an aesthetic?
Vera, The Hall Of The Singing Caryatids
On watch that night a voice came over the ship-to-ship radio: ‘To all ships. This is a Russian destroyer. Get our of our way. We are coming through. We repeat: Get out of our way.’ The etiquette of the sea did not concern them.
John Moynihan, The Voyage Of The Rose City
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
You know what they say—sleep is the mother’s drug of choice, but like heroin, only the very rich and the very poor can afford it.
Paige, Blueprints For Building Better Girls
I have it, you don’t.
Joe Bortz on collecting

From Here (Series), 2011

I don’t know, Anna. I don’t think this is what I’m supposed to feel like.
Oliver, Beginners
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

The Waldorf Panels On Sculpture (1965)

  • Reuben Kadish: Deep pleasure is becoming more human than before, and that is what a work of art does to you. And love, you discover, does that too. You cannot look at Courbet and go away an unchanged person. That is what Courbet does to me.
  • Herbert Ferber: My God, I'm amazed to hear you talk about history.
This Exists, 2010

This Exists, 2010

There’s little I enjoy more than sitting on the olive sofa in my study looking around at my books, trying to remember when and where I first read each one and under what circumstances, as if they were photos of old friends. I love the smell and the gentle heft and romance of arranging each in its proper and respective place on my shelves. I love most of all the gathering of these very personal and private views of the world I’m being invited to share; the unexpected trust and ever-growing bond and fondness I feel for their authors. Indeed I love everything about books, except actually reading them.
Philip Schultz, My Dyslexia



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Love,

Ian Dingman