Norbiton (24)
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Restless bewilderment, it seems, is our only recourse, our only liberty.
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Restless bewilderment, it seems, is our only recourse, our only liberty.
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Clarke proposes that we play a parlour game, which he calls Smash that Image!
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My book was called The Roots of Ornament, but I see now that it should have been called The Rootlessness of Ornament.
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We are discussing fortification. More precisely, I am discussing fortification.
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The five of us might suddenly be adrift in a lifeboat, having just cast lots to see who eats whom.
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In time, the animating principle of the city will be expressed in an evolved monstrosity…
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…it is a system, let us allow, that is closer to love than we generally care to acknowledge.
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Under certain conditions — in a garden, in the Ideal City, in a garden of the Ideal City — objects of knowledge achieve weightlessness.
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Or was I—a deeper or possible more pragmatic fear—merely a clause or a term in someone else’s contract?
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