Naturally I have zero friends. I’ve built a wall around me, never letting anybody inside and trying not to venture outside myself. […] Sometimes the wall I’ve erected around me comes crumbling down. It doesn’t happen very often, but sometimes, before I even realize what’s going on, there I am—naked and defenseless and totally confused.… Continue reading Haruki Murakami
No permanence is ours; we are a wave That flows to fit whatever form it finds: Through day or night, cathedral or the cave We pass forever, craving form that binds. – Hermann Hesse, from “Lament,” The Glass Bead Game: A Novel. (Picador; First edition, December 6, 2002) Originally published 1943.
The moon likes secrets. And secret things. She lets mysteries bleed into her shadows and leaves us to ask whether they originated from otherworlds, or from our own imaginations. — Charles de Lint