if what he saw was correct, and they wereengaging with each other rather physically and intimately, it also speaks of a supposedcontradiction between Oliver’s behavior and his intentions.

owthoroughly trenchant was his ability to sort contradictory signals, I have nodoubt that he must have already suspected something.

After I had finished explaining my transcription, I became aware ofthe keenest glance coming from my left. It thrilled and flattered me; he wasobviously interested—he liked me. It hadn’t been as difficult as all that,then. But when, after taking my time, I finally turned to face him and takein his glance, I met a cold and icy glare—something at once hostile andvitrified that bordered on cruelty.

even after my colortheory was entirely disproved and gave me no confidence to expectkindness on “blue” days or to watch out for “red” days

soles, of his throat, of the bottom of his forearms, which hadn’t really beenexposed to much sun. Almost a light pink, as glistening and smooth as theunderside of a lizard’s belly. Private, chaste, unfledged, like a blush on anathlete’s face or an instance of dawn on a stormy night. It told me thingsabout him I never knew to ask

He had never had apricotjuice in his life. She stood facing him with her salver flat against her apron,trying to make out his reaction as he quaffed it down. He said nothing atfirst. Then, probably without thinking, he smacked his lips.

The Latin word was praecoquum, from pre-coquere, pre-cook, toripen early, as in ‘precocious,’ meaning premature

“I know myself. If I have three, I’ll have a fourth, and more.” I had neverheard someone his age say, I know myself. It intimidated me

Oliver timido? That was new. Could all of his gruff Americanisms benothing more than an exaggerated way of covering up the simple fact thathe didn’t know—or feared he didn’t know—how to take his leavegracefully?

Only once during his very first few days did I get a sense that thiswillful but accommodating, laid-back, water-over-my-back, unflappable,unfazed twenty-four-year-old who was so heedlessly okay with so manythings in life was, in fact, a thoroughly alert, cold, sagacious judge ofcharacter and situations

My father told him his insights into Heraclitus were brilliantbut needed firming up, that he needed to accept the paradoxical nature ofthe philosopher’s thinking, not simply explain it away. He was okay withfirming things up, he was okay with paradox. Back to the drawing board—he was okay with the drawing board as well.

A few hourslater, when I remembered that he had just finished writing a book onHeraclitus and that “reading” was probably not an insignificant part of hislife, I realized that I needed to perform some clever backpedaling and lethim know that my real interests lay right alongside his

I had put reading last on my list, thinking that, with the willful, brazenattitude he’d displayed so far, reading would figure last on his.

We have all heard and probably beenirritated or bored by the assertion thatno two people think alike «quat homines)tot sentential' that science is alwayscontradicting itself, that theologians andeconomists can never agree. It is largelymental laziness on the defensive thatmakes people say this kind of thing.

On that freezing sidewalk, I felt a shudder of revulsion at the perversions of meritocracy. And yet there I was, cursing myself for being 30th in line.

telling the truth about my own experiences as a body

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if he shows that a thing has happened, we show that it has not; if he shows that it has not happened, we show that it has. This, then, could not be the distinction if there were one, since the same means are employed by both parties, enthymemes being adduced to show that the fact is or is not so-and-so.