Every time Sachs posed for a picture, he was forced to impersonate himself, to play the game of pretending to be who he was. After a while, it must have had an effect on him. (…) They say that a camer...
But the present is no less dark than the past, and its mystery is equal to anything the future might hold. Such is the way of the world: one step at a time, one word and then the next.
As long as there's one person to believe it, there's no story that can't be true.
نحن دائماً موجودون في النهاية , دائماً نقف على حافة اللحظة الأخيرة , ولماذا ينبغي أن نتوقع أن نكون مختلفين الآن ؟
لا أحد يتصل في الثامنة صباحاً في يوم العطلة وإن حصل ذلك فهو لنقل أخبار لا تستطيع الانتظار، هذه الأخبار تكون عادةً سيئة.
حتى الوقائع قد لا تقول الحقيقة دائمًا.
What at first had seemed to be no more than a small bump in the road was turned into a full-scale misfortune
Man unable to see anything but the thoughts inside his own head, a man who was there but not there, gone. That was the real difference, Ferguson concluded. Not too little money or too much money, not...
When a person is lucky enough to live inside a story, to live inside an imaginary world, the pains of this world disappear. For as long as the story goes on, reality no longer exists.
What matters is not how well you can avoid trouble, but how you cope with trouble when it comes.
We are not where we are . . . but in a false position. Through an infirmity of our natures, we suppose a case, and put ourselves into it, and hence are in two cases at the same time, and it is doubly...
To think one thought meant thinking the opposite thought, and no sooner did that second thought destroy the first thought than a third thought rose up todestroy the second.
To leave the world a little better than you found it. That's the best a man can ever do.
There were no rules when it came to writing, he said. Take a close look at the lives of poets and novelists, and what you wound up with was unalloyed chaos, an infinite jumble of exceptions. That was...
The room was a machine that measured my condition: how much of me remained, how much of me was no longer there. I was both perpetrator and witness, both actor and audience in a theater of one. I could...
The gods looked down from their mountain and shrugged.
Solitary. But not in the sense of being alone. Not solitary in the way Thoreau was, for example, exiling himself in order to find out where he was; not solitary in the way Jonah was, praying for deliv...
Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author's words reverb...
Language, then, not simply as a list of separate things to be added up and whose sum total is equal to the world. Rather, language as it is laid out in the dictionary: an infinitely complex organism,...
It was the first time since his master’s death that he had been able to think about such things without feeling crushed by sorrow, the first time he had understood that memory was a place, a real plac...