We looked at each other, for a long strange moment that I’ve never forgotten, actually, like two animals meeting at twilight, during which some clear, personable spark seemed to fly up through his eye...
We don't like to admit it, said Julian, but the idea of losing control is one that fascinates controlled people such as ourselves more than anything. All truly civilized people - the ancients no less...
Was it wrong, wanting to sleep late with the covers over my head and wander around a peaceful house with old seashells in drawers and wicker baskets of folded upholstery fabric stored under the parlor...
Was ist, wenn einer zufällig von einem Herzen besessen ist, dem nicht zu trauen ist? Wenn dein tiefstes Inneres dich singend zum Scheiterhaufen lockt, sollst du dich dann lieber abwenden, dir die Ohre...
Viewed close: a freckled hand against a black coat, an origami frog tipped over on its side. Step away, and the illusion snaps in again: life-more-than-life, never-dying. Pippa herself is the play bet...
Unsettled heart. The fetishism of secrecy. These people understood—as I did—the back alleys of the soul, whispers and shadows, money slipping from hand to hand, the password, the code, the second self...
Und so gern ich an eine Wahrheit jenseits der Illusion glauben würde, glaube ich doch inzwischen, dass es sie nicht gibt, denn zwischen der Realität auf der einen Seite und dem Punkt, an dem der Geist...
To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, t...
Though I would have died rather than told anyone, I was worried my exuberant drug use had damaged my brain and my nervous system and maybe even my soul in some irreparable and perhaps not readily appa...
They understood not only evil, it seemed, but the extravagance of tricks with which evil presents itself as good.
They all shared a certain coolness, a cruel, mannered charm which was not modern in the least but had the strange cold breath of the ancient world : they were magnificent creatures, such eyes, such ha...
There’s only a double abyss: between painter and imprisoned bird; between the record he left of the bird and our experience of it, centuries later.
The world won't come to me...so I must go to it.
The twilights out there were florid and melodramatic, great sweeps of orange and crimson and Lawrence-in-the-desert vermilion, then night dropping dark and hard like a slammed door.
The sky was a rich, mindless, never-ending blue, like a promise of some ridiculous glory that wasn’t really there.
That’s the first law of magic, Specs. Misdirection. Never forget it.
Te sorprendería saber hasta qué punto las pequeñas cosas cotidianas pueden sacarnos de nuestra desesperación.
She was as cool as dammit.
She looked up at me, her eyes large with compassion, with understanding of the solitude and incivility of grief.
Safe trip. I love you. No kidding.