The memory came faint and cold of the story I might have told, a story in the likeness of my life, I mean without the courage to end or the strength to go on.
لم نولد لنكون على الطريق نفسه.
So that I would have hesitated to exclaim, with my finger up my arse-hole for example, Jesus Christ, it's much worse than yesterday, I can hardly believe it is the same hole.
بجدية كافحت لأكون جاداً أكثر ، أن أعيش وأبدع . ولكن عند كل محاوله جديدة أفقد عقلي ، أهرب إلى ظلالي كما يهرب الفرد إلى المعبد .
أرى الحياة دون أن أعرف ما هي ، حاولت أن أعيش دون أن أعرف ما أفعله أو أحاول أن أفعله ..
The whisky bears a grudge against the decanter.
Perhaps after all she put me in her rectum. A matter of complete indifference to me, I needn't tell you. But is it true love, in the rectum? That's what bothers me sometimes. Have I never known true l...
Try again. Fail again. Fail better.
[T]he mind cannot always brood on the same cares, but needs fresh cares from time to tome, so as to revert with renewed vigour, when the time comes, to ancient cares.
No, I regret nothing, all I regret is having been born, dying is such a long tiresome business I always found.
Yes, now my mind is easy, I know the game is won, I lost them all till now, but it's the last that counts. A very fine achievement I must say, or rather would, if I did not fear to contradict myself....
We wait. We are bored. (He throws up his hand.) No, don't protest, we are bored to death, there's no denying it. Good. A diversion comes along and what do we do? We let it go to waste. Come, let's get...
What was God doing with himself before the creation?
We go wherever the flesh creeps least, said Mercier. We dodge along, hugging the walls, wherever the shit lies least thick.
Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind...
Yes, my resolutions were remarkable in this, that they were no sooner formed than something always happened to prevent their execution. That
To know you can do better next time, unrecognizably better, and that there is no next time, and that it is a blessing there is not, there is a thought to be going on with.
What kind of country is this where a woman can't weep her heart out on the highways and byways without being tormented by retired bill-brokers!
You must go on. I can't go on. I'll go on.
Words are all we have.
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