I’m sick of people sittin’ in chairs stating their problems. Then we roll the videotape… then we have our experts on the topic… I’m in the ‘What’s next?’ phase of my career.
The curious defiled past him, after squeezing the Presidential fingers into the room, and settled either on the sofa or chairs or remained standing for protracted observations.
I used to be a writer with superstitions worthy of a professional baseball player: I needed a certain desk chair and a certain armchair and a certain desk arrangement, and I could only get really useful work done between 8 P.M. and 3 A.M. Then I started to move, and I couldn’t bring my chairs with me.
When me and Sheila got married, all we had was an oval table, four chairs, a bed, and a painting by Matthew Smith.
‘The Chairs are Where the People Go’ was told to me by my friend Misha Glouberman; I typed as he talked. In ‘How Should a Person Be?’ the transcribed dialogues between me and my friends help form the structure of the book.
In my childhood there was every year at my old home, Roxborough, or, as it is called in Irish, Cregroostha, a great sheep-shearing that lasted many days. On the last evening there was always a dance for the shearers and their helpers, and two pipers used to sit on chairs placed on a corn-bin to make music for the dance.
Opening doors for us, helping us with our jackets and chairs – we love all that.
If Jesus had been killed twenty years ago, Catholic school children would be wearing little electric chairs around their necks instead of crosses.
I work in theater, so I am always working in front of empty chairs. They represent a future presence. They are never just chairs.
I love kids with a passion I usually reserve for hot cheese, miniature chairs, and Prince concerts, but I feel no stress to reproduce simply because of a fear of withering eggs.
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