Look at the Birdie: Unpublished Short Fiction

The Summer had died peacefully in its sleep, and Autumn, as soft-spoken executrix, was locking life up safely until Spring came to claim it.

He became fubar in the classic way, which is to say that he was the victim of a temporary arrangement that became permanent.

While bachelors are lonely people, I'm convinced that married men are lonely people with dependents.

Maybe you like being unhappy so much, you wouldn't do anything to change it.

If we had fooled her last night, I would have considered my life at a satisfactory end, with all debts paid. I would have wound up on skid row, or maybe I would have been a suicide." He shrugged and smiled sadly. "Now," he said, "if I'm ever going to square things with her, I've got to believe in a Heaven, I've got to believe she can look down and see me, and I've got to be a big success for her to see

Don't blame you for trying to run away from yourself, but it can't be done—not even in a Buick.

No children. No books. Few friends. She seemed to know what she was doing.

If there is to be no ceiling on the amount of money a man can take out of our economy, then concomitantly there can be no foundation below which a human being cannot sink. What capitalists must realize is that you are fighting to make capitalism survive, not destroy it; you are fighting to eliminate the seeds of destruction inherent in the status quo." ~Kurt Vonnegut, Jr's letter to Don Matchan, 27 April 1947

You mustn't speak certain kinds of truth, not if you want to go on living.

Keeping big secrets, particularly secrets about things of one's own doing, is a tough proposition for even very bright people.

I'd give my right arm to be enthusiastic.

I only want to talk to you. The robbers are all in bed by now. Drunks, drifters, and poets are the only ones up this late at night.

If onThe serious way Mark talked about the rule reminded Charlay what a marvelous age ten was. And Charley thought it was a pity that everybody couldn't stay ten for the rest of their lives. I everybody were ten, Charley thought, meybe rules and common decency and horse sense would have a Chinaman's chance.

Let me add quickly that I like women, but am a bachelor by choice. While bachelors are lonely people, I’m convinced that married men are lonely people with dependents.

My father worked himself to death for my future; my mother is dying, killed by the same thing. And now, college degrees and all, I can’t even get a job as a dishwasher!

It was an accident, like most discoveries, and none other than Henry Bowers is the lucky one.

I was sitting in a bar one night, talking rather loudly about a person I hated - and a man with a beard sat down beside me, and he said amiably, "Why don't you have him killed?" "I've thought of it," I said. "Don't think I haven't." "Let me help you to think about it clearly," he said. His voice was deep. His beak was large. He wore a black mohair suit and a black string tie. His little red mouth was obscene. "You're looking at the situation through a red haze of hate," he said. "What you need are the calm, wise services of a murder counsellor, who can plan the job for you, and save you an unnecessary trip to the hot squat." "Where do I find one?" I said. "You've found one, " he said. "You're crazy," I said. "That's right," he said. "I've been in and out mental institutions all my life. That makes my services all the more appealing. If I were to testify against you, your lawyer would have no trouble establishing that I was a well-known nut, and a convicted felon besides." "What was the felony?" I said. "A little thing - practising medicine without a license," he said. "Not murder then?" I said. "No," he said, "but that doesn't mean I haven't murdered. As a matter of fact, I murdered almost everyone who had anything to do with convicting me of practising medicine without a license." He looked at the ceiling, did some arithmetic. "Twenty-two, twenty-three - maybe more," he said. "Maybe more. I've killed them over a period of years, and I haven't read the paper every single day.