Willian Zerko

“He thought he might as well. "There's really only one question."
"What's that?"
"Did God really kill Himself?"
Leanna wasn't smiling now. She was staring at him, but softly.
"Who are you?" she asked him.
Whatever she meant by the question, he didn't want to answer it. He wiped his face with his napkin, and in reference to the warmth of the place said, "Man.”
― Denis Johnson, Resuscitation of a Hanged Man

“She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire.”
― Charles Bukowski

“It never stopped, even at night, it was our lullaby. It was our metronome, our pulse. It was our lives measured out in doses slightly larger than those famous coffee spoons. Soup spoons, maybe? Dented tin spoons brimming with what should have been sweet but was sour, gone off, gone by without our savouring it: our lives”
― Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted

“for as leaves are to limbs, so are your words to your soul”
― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves