"The wind rushes like an ocean over Indiana. Swallows bore into an organge cliff, which perhaps floats ahead of its reflection in the sea. Do you know any doors which aren’t traps? Answer me! The sun rises like the pennies we roasted when we were kids. Or we placed them on the tracks to be flattened by trains. Why can’t the sun come up silver some morning like the moon? Or silver some night, pale as a piece of parchment. What’s this? The ash of a paper match. My wife makes charts of her ancestry. I know many bodies worse than jails."
— William H. Gass
"If something burns your soul with purpose and desire, it’s your duty to be reduced to ashes by it. Any other form of existence will be yet another dull book in the library of life."
— Charles Bukowski (via psych-facts)
"As I am. As I am.
All or not at all."
— James Joyce, from Ulysses (via cosmicspread)
(Source: violentwavesofemotion, via thismissluvshistoryblogspot)
"Even if we could turn back, we’d probably never end up where we started."
— Haruki Murakami, 1Q84 (via bookmania)