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“Swish swish all the hospital doors in the world sound the same. I am walking in out of the light. God. Under strip lamps and curtains and a stink of green.”
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“Whether the mask is labeled fascism, democracy, or dictatorship of the proletariat, our great adversary remains the apparatus—the bureaucracy, the police, the military. Not the one facing us across the frontier of the battle lines, which is not so much our enemy as our brothers' enemy, but the one that calls itself our protector and makes us its slaves. No matter what the circumstances, the worst betrayal will always be to subordinate ourselves to this apparatus and to trample underfoot, in its service, all human values in ourselves and in others.”
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“I have cans. In my bag. Where do I? Out them there no don't put down or they'll go you'll be sorry. Money spent. I trup trup off behind her. Think I'm new and white. In the garden. In the wet. For grass still sucks it up all day. Where's this? Just some fella I know she says. He said come and bring a friend. Him and other lads have this band. Oh. Brilliant. Good too. They squat here. Christ. What do I know? What do I know? People living mad life but I'm around it now. I can't be in. I'm. What'd I'd say to those girls in school if. No. I won't. Won't be going back in there.”
― A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing
― A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing
“He talked a lot about the past, and I gathered that he wanted to recover something, some idea of himself perhaps, that had gone into loving Daisy. His life had been confused and disordered since then, but if he could once return to a certain starting place and go over it all slowly, he could find out what that thing was ....”
― The Great Gatsby
― The Great Gatsby
“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 to bits, pulled apart, squashed — then its lovely reek will be smelt in the hollow of the palm, it will be munched and rolled upon the tongue with relish; then, and only then, its rare flavor will be appreciated at its true worth and the broken and crushed parts will again come together in your mind and disclose the beauty of a unity to which you have contributed something of your own blood.”
― Lectures on Russian Literature
― Lectures on Russian Literature
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