Talk is only a pretext for other, subtler forms of communication. When the latter are inoperative speech becomes dead. If two people are intent upon communicating with one another it doesn’t matter in...
Let me be, was all I wanted. Be what I am, no matter how I am.
If at eighty you're not a cripple or an invalid, if you have your health, if you still enjoy a good walk, a good meal (with all the trimmings), if you can sleep without first taking a pill, if birds a...
I've lived out my melancholy youth. I don't give a fuck anymore what's behind me, or what's ahead of me. I'm healthy. Incurably healthy. No sorrows, no regrets. No past, no future. The present is enou...
I was born the 26th of December. . . Arrive by dint of perseverance, but step by step. . . Tenancy to exaggerate the importance of earthly life. Avaricious of self. Constant in their affections and th...
I used to think then that all the tragic events of life were written down in books and that what went on outside was just diluted crap.
I too love everything that flows: rivers, sewers, lava, semen, blood, bile, words, sentences. I love the amniotic fluid when it spills out of the bag. I love the kidney with it’s painful gall-stones,...
I remember that just as I was about to cross the border they asked me what I had to declare and, like an idiot, I answered: I want to declare that I am a traitor to the human race.
I made up my mind that I would hold onto nothing, that I would expect nothing.
I had a microscopic eye for the blemish, for the grain of ugliness which to me constituted the sole beauty of the object.
I found that what I had desired all my life was not to live - if what others are doing is called living - but to express myself.
I believe that today more than ever a book should be sought after even if it has only one great page in it. We must search for fragments, splinters, toenails, anything that has ore in it, anything tha...
How we hate to admit that we would like nothing better than to be the slave! Slave and master at the same time! For even in love the slave is always the master in disguise. The man who must conquer th...
For there is only one great adventure and that is inward toward the self, and for that, time nor space nor even deeds matter.
For the man in the paddock, whose duty is is to sweep up manure,the supreme terror is the possibility of a world without horses. Totell him that it is disgusting to spend one’s life shoveling up hot
For seven years I went about, day and night, with only one thing on my mind – her.Were there a Christian so faithful to his God as I was to her we would all be JesusChrists today.
Everyone has his own reality in which, if one is not too cautious, timid or frightened, one swims. This is the only reality there is.
Begin this moment, wherever you find yourself, and take no thought of the morrow. Look not to Russia, China, India, not to Washington, not to the adjoining county, city or state, but to your immediate...
At the opera, the music makes no sense; here in the street it has just the right demented touch to give it poignancy.
At that moment I rejoiced that I was free of possessions, free of all·ties, free of fear and envy and malice. I could have passed quietly from one dream to another, owning nothing, regretting nothing,...