The lonely Chandler needs friendship, but he's not going to get it. He knows too much about it, how tenuous it is, how much a matter of convenience.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
McShane: "Life of R. Chandler," p. 200
The Lady in the Lake, p. 542 (2)
a small oval lake deep in trees and rocks and wild grass, like a drop of dew caught in a curled leaf.
The Lady in the Lake, p. 542
through a maze of black oak trees and ironwood and manzanita and silence.
Farewell, My Lovely, p. 279
...and I held them for a moment and then let go slowly as you let go of a dream when you wake with the sun in your face and have been in an enchanted valley.
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