Dieter Joubert

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Cormac McCarthy
“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
Cormac McCarthy, The Road

Philip K. Dick
“I even gave up, for a while, stopping by the window of the room to look out at the lights and deep, illuminated streets. That's a form of dying, that losing contact with the city like that.”
Philip K. Dick, We Can Build You

Fyodor Dostoevsky
“I could not become anything; neither good nor bad; neither a scoundrel nor an honest man; neither a hero nor an insect. And now I am eking out my days in my corner, taunting myself with the bitter and entirely useless consolation that an intelligent man cannot seriously become anything, that only a fool can become something.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground, White Nights, The Dream of a Ridiculous Man, and Selections from The House of the Dead

David Foster Wallace
“How odd I can have all this inside me and to you it’s just words.”
David Foster Wallace, The Pale King

Søren Kierkegaard
“What is youth? A dream. What is love? The dream's content.”
Søren Kierkegaard, Either/Or: A Fragment of Life

year in books
A.M.
277 books | 151 friends

Alex
203 books | 29 friends

Cindy F...
584 books | 20 friends

Tony
196 books | 16 friends

Vincent...
172 books | 305 friends

Arielle
90 books | 112 friends

Megan
87 books | 26 friends

Dorsa
86 books | 52 friends

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