George

“In a thousand years nothing will be left
of all that’s been written this century.
They’ll read loose sentences, traces
of lost women,
fragments of motionless children,
your slow green eyes
simply will not exist.
It will be like the Greek Anthology,
but even further away,
like a beach in winter
for another wonder, another indifference.

Dentro de mil años no quedará nada
de cuanto se ha escrito en este siglo.
Leerán frases sueltas, huellas
e mujeres perdidas,
fragmentos de niños inmóviles,
tus ojos lentos y verdes>
simplemente no existirán.
Será como la Antología Griega,
aún más distante,
como una playa en invierno
para otro asombro y otra indiferencia.”
― Roberto Bolaño, The Unknown University

“I am now 33 years old, and it feels like much time has passed and is passing faster and faster every day. Day to day I have to make all sorts of choices about what is good and important and fun, and then I have to live with the forfeiture of all the other options those choices foreclose. And I'm starting to see how as time gains momentum my choices will narrow and their foreclosures multiply exponentially until I arrive at some point on some branch of all life's sumptuous branching complexity at which I am finally locked in and stuck on one path and time speeds me through stages of stasis and atrophy and decay until I go down for the third time, all struggle for naught, drowned by time. It is dreadful. But since it's my own choices that'll lock me in, it seems unavoidable--if I want to be any kind of grownup, I have to make choices and regret foreclosures and try to live with them.”
― David Foster Wallace, A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again: Essays and Arguments

“Mario, what do you get when you cross an insomniac, an unwilling agnostic and a dyslexic?"

"I give."

"You get someone who stays up all night torturing himself mentally over the question of whether or not there's a dog.”
― David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest

“In that case, I’ll miss the thing by waiting for it.”
― Franz Kafka