She had seen fear: the terrible helpless fear that rises up out of sadness and despair and is no longer attached to anything— the helpless fear that is tied only to nothingness. Not fear or anxiety or despair about a person or a situation, nothing, nothing, only the exposure, the vulnerability, being cast loose from… Continue reading Hans Keilson
That was one of the virtues of being a pessimist: nothing was ever as bad as you thought it would be. — James Jones, From Here to Eternity. (Gramercy April 2004) published 1951.
And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep. — Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five. (Delacorte 1969)
Sometimes I wake up and lie still enough to hear a petal drop from the vase of flowers. Sometimes I lie awake and wish there was someone to hear my falling. ― Simon Van Booy, The Illusion of Separateness. (HarperCollins Publishers; 1st edition June 11, 2013)
When you drank the world was still out there, but for the moment it didn’t have you by the throat. — Charles Bukowski, Factotum. (Ecco May 31, 2002) Originally published 1975.
And so it goes… ― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five (Delacorte 1969)
Waiting is erotic. — Irène Némirovsky, Suite Française. (Vintage; Reprint edition April 10, 2007)