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| "I began to view the world at large through borrowed eyes, eyes more like those I wanted to own."
"In my view having babies was supposed to be something beautiful, not a duty. Something incredible, not role-playing. Bringing new life into this dying world, promising hope for a sane tomorrow. As I saw it, any expectation of sanity rested in a woman's womb."
"It wasn't like my life had changed at all, and maybe that was part of the problem. Because something inside me was different. Shifting, like a tide or sand dune. That something was growing, stretching, taking shape beneath my skin. And I wondered if very soon it might blow me apart at the seams." | comments: Leave a comment   |
| | "When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him." | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | Indeed, I am nothing but a wanderer and a pilgrim on this earth ! And what more are you ? | | comments: 1 comment or Leave a comment |
| for others, in spite of myself, from myself.
autrement qu 'être. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| Some thoughts...
EDIT: I plan on posting the ipod version once it's done converting. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | "At eighteen our convictions are hills from which we look; at forty-five they are caves in which we hide." | | comments: 3 comments or Leave a comment |
| drunk on the dark streets of some city,
it's night, you're lost, where's your
room?
you enter a bar to find yourself,
order scotch and water.
damned bar's sloppy wet, it soaks
part of one of your shirt
sleeves.
It's a clip joint-the scotch is weak.
you order a bottle of beer.
Madame Death walks up to you
wearing a dress.
she sits down, you buy her a
beer, she stinks of swamps, presses
a leg against you.
the bar tender sneers.
you've got him worried, he doesn't
know if you're a cop, a killer, a
madman or an
Idiot.
you ask for a vodka.
you pour the vodka into the top of
the beer bottle.
It's one a.m. In a dead cow world.
you ask her how much for head,
drink everything down, it tastes
like machine oil.
you leave Madame Death there,
you leave the sneering bartender
there.
you have remembered where
your room is.
the room with the full bottle of
wine on the dresser.
the room with the dance of the
roaches.
Perfection in the Star Turd
where love died
laughing | | comments: 10 comments or Leave a comment |
| All the world will be your enemy, Prince of a thousand enemies.
And when they catch you, they will kill you…
But first, they must catch you. | | comments: 7 comments or Leave a comment |
| "That life is difficult, I have often bitterly realized. I now had further cause for serious reflection. Right up to the present I have never lost the feeling of contradiction that lies behind all knowledge. My life has been miserable and difficult, and yet to others, and sometimes to myself, it has seemed rich and wonderful. Man's life seems to me like a long, weary night that would be intolerable if there were not occasionally flashes of light, the sudden brightness of which is so comforting and wonderful, that the moments of their appearance cancel out and justify the years of darkness."
"Passion is always a mystery and unaccountable, and unfortunately there is no doubt that life does not spare its purest children and often it is just the most deserving people who cannot help loving those that destroy them." | | comments: 4 comments or Leave a comment |
| | What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction. | | comments: 6 comments or Leave a comment |
| Or when, under ether, the mind is conscious but conscious
of nothing-
I said to my soul, be still, and wait without hope
For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without
love,
For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith
But the faith and the love and the hope are all in the
waiting.
Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:
So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the
dancing. | | comments: Leave a comment |
| | I can tell you quite frankly: even when we were having the most intellectural conversations and I honestly thought and believe everything I said, I still wanted all the time, all the time, to pick you up and kiss you on the lips. | | comments: 5 comments or Leave a comment |
| | 'You come out; it is still dark. The door creaks, or perhaps you sneeze, or the snow crunches under your foot, and hares start up from the far cabbage patch and leap away, leaving the snow criss-crossed with tracks. In the distance dogs begin to howl and it takes a long time before the quieten down. The cocks have finished their crowing and have nothing left to say. Then dawn breaks.' | | comments: 2 comments or Leave a comment |
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