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When forty winters shall besiege thy brow, And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field, Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now, Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held:
Kieran Forster and 15 other people liked this
“Make no mistake, those who write long books have nothing to say.
Of course those who write short books have even less to say.”
― House of Leaves
Of course those who write short books have even less to say.”
― House of Leaves
“To write: to try meticulously to retain something, to cause something to survive; to wrest a few precise scraps from the void as it grows, to leave somewhere a furrow, a trace, a mark or a few signs.”
― Species of Spaces and Other Pieces
― Species of Spaces and Other Pieces
“In the beginning God created man in His own image, and man has been trying to repay the favor ever since.”
―
―
“As the hours, the days, the weeks, the seasons slip by, you detach yourself from everything. You discover, with something that sometimes almost resembles exhilaration, that you are free. That nothing is weighing you down, nothing pleases or displeases you. You find, in this life exempt from wear and tear and with no thrill in it other than these suspended moments, in almost perfect happiness, fascinating, occasionally swollen by new emotions. You are living in a blessed parenthesis, in a vacuum full of promise, and from which you expect nothing. You are invisible, limpid, transparent. You no longer exist. Across the passing hours, the succession of days, the procession of the seasons, the flow of time, you survive without joy and without sadness. Without a future and without a past. Just like that: simply, self evidently, like a drop of water forming on a drinking tap on a landing.”
― Things: A Story of the Sixties / A Man Asleep
― Things: A Story of the Sixties / A Man Asleep
Chris’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Chris’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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