Marcella Wigg

“My legs! Lord Jesus stop the pain in my legs!”

“Hush John,” Florida said. “That’s only phantom pain.”

“Is it real?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “All pain is real.”
― Lucia Berlin, A Manual for Cleaning Women: Selected Stories

“His life was a constant war with insensate objects that fell apart, or attacked him, or refused to function, or viciously got themselves lost as soon as they entered the sphere of his existence.”
― Vladimir Nabokov, Pnin

“There are decades where nothing happens; and there are weeks where decades happen.”
― Vladimir Ilyich Lenin

“I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence, because I felt so sure they could not possibly know the things I knew. Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous flauntings of folly in the faces of a danger it is unable to comprehend.”
― Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness