Mnemosyne, one must admit, has shown herself to be a very careless girl.
Literature, real literature, must not be gulped down like some potion which may be good for the heart or good for the brain — the brain, that stomach of the soul. Literature must be taken and broken t...
Light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul.
In order to enjoy life, we should not enjoy it too much.
I will contend until I am shot that art as soon as it is brought into contact with politics inevitably sinks to the level of any ideological trash.
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain/By the false azure in the windowpane...
I was an infant when my parents died.Thye both were ornithologists. I've triedSo often to evoke them that todayI have a thousand parents. Sadly theyDissolve in their own virtues and recede,But certain...
I suppose the pain of parting will be red and loud.
I see the awakening of consciousness as a series of spaced flashes, with the intervals between them gradually diminishing until bright blocks of perception are formed, affording memory and a slippery...
I am just winking happy thoughts into a little tiddle cup.
Human thought, flying on the trapezes of the star-filled universe, with mathematics stretched beneath, was like an acrobat working with a net but suddenly noticing that in reality there is no net.
Human life is but a series of footnotes to a vast obscure unfinished masterpiece
He suggested I play golf, but finally agreed to give me something that, he said, would really work; and going to a cabinet, he produced a vial of violet-blue capsules banded with dark purple at one en...
He could swear he did not look back, could not—by any optical chance, or in any prism—have seen her physically as he walked away; and yet, with dreadful distinction, he retained forever a composite pi...
Coordinating thereEvents and objects with remote eventsAnd vanished objects. Making ornamentsOf accidents and possibilities.
But one shelf was a little neater than the rest and here I noted the following sequence which for a moment seemed to form a vague musical phrase, oddly familiar: Hamlet, La morte d’Arthur, The Bridge...
Bueno, algún día, si quieres venirte a vivir conmigo… Crearé un nuevo Dios y le agradeceré con gritos desgarradores si me das una esperanza microscópica.
A first-rate college library with a comfortable campus around it is a fine milieu for a writer. There is, of course, the problem of educating the young. I remember how once, between terms, not at Corn...
The more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is.
It is hard, I submit, to loathe bloodshed, including war, more than I do, but it is still harder to exceed my loathing of the very nature of totalitarian states in which massacre is only an administra...