Do you know why books such as this are so important? Because they have quality. And what does the word quality mean? To me it means texture. This book has pores. It has features. This book can go unde...
Cram them full of noncombustible data, chock them so damned full of ‘facts’ they feel stuffed, but absolutely ‘brilliant’ with information.
Colored people don’t like Little Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don’t feel good about Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Burn it. Someone’s written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people...
And right now he and Douglas were hiking out beyond town on another warm and marble-round day, the sky blue blown-glass reaching high, the creeks bright with mirror waters fanning over white stones. I...
Bums on the outside, libraries inside.
Look for the little loves. Find and shape the little bitternesses.
Sometimes you just have to jump out the window and grow wings on the way down.
Love is the answer to everything. It's the only reason to do anything. If you don't write stories you love, you'll never make it. If you don't write stories that other people love, you'll never make i...
…to gently lie and prove the lie true…everything is finally a promise…what seems a lie is a ramshackle need, wishing to be born.…
— А я завжди гадав, що Бог може бути тільки серйозним.— І при цьому створити качкодзьоба, верблюда, страуса і людину? Я Вас прошу!
Ne kadar çok insan var, diye düşündü. Bizim gibi milyarlarca insan var, ne kadar fazla. Kimse kimseyi bilmez. Yabancılar gelip seni rahatsız ederler. Yabancılar gelir, yüreğini kesip alırlar.
Autrefois, il y avait des galeries aux maisons. Et quelque-fois, les gens restaient assis, tard dans la nuit, bavardant s'ils en avaient envie, se balançant dans leurs fauteuils, silencieux s'ils n'ép...
You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.
You ask Why to a lot of things and you wind up very unhappy indeed, if you keep at it.
With nothing trembles. To be afraid of nothing for no reason. And having to live with that nothing until dawn.
Why then you're as mad as me. No, madder. For I distrust 'reality' and its moron mother, the universe, while you fasten your innocence to fallible devices which pretend at happy endings.
When life is over it is like a flicker of bright film, an instant on the screen, all of its prejudices and passions condensed and illumined for an instant on space, and before you could cry out, There...
We’ll go on the river...or we’ll go that way. Or we’ll walk the highways now. And we’ll have time to put things into ourselves. And someday, after it sets into us a long time, it’ll come out her hands...
We stand against the small tide of those who want to make everyone unhappy with conflicting theory and thought.
We need not to be let alone. We need to be really bothered once in a while.