I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often. — Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness.… Continue reading Charles Bukowski
My body gnaws at me from one side and my spirit gnaws at me from the other. — Charles Bukowski, “I Love You, Albert,” Hot Water Music. (Black Sparrow Press; First edition. Edition, October 1983)
…but it is in despair that the most burning pleasures occur… ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground, W…but it is in despair that the most burning pleasures occur… ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from Underground, White Nights, The Dream of a Ridiculous Man, and Selections from The House of the Dead. (Signet; Reissue edition, November 2,… Continue reading Fyodor Dostoyevsky
It is true when you are by yourself and you think about life, it is always sad. All that excitement and so on has a way of suddenly leaving you, and it’s as though, in the silence, somebody called your name, and you heard your name for the first time. — Katherine Mansfield, from “At… Continue reading Katherine Mansfield
Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time. — Jorge Luis Borges, from “The Threatened”, The Book of Sand [El Libro de arena] (1975)
I sometimes think that people’s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what’s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while. — Haruki Murakami, Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. (Knopf; First Edition edition August 29, 2006)
I’m full of poetry now. Rot and poetry. Rotten poetry. — Ernest Hemingway, The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories. (Scribner; Classic edition, July 6, 1999) Originally published 1938.