Haris Vuk

“My memories don’t feel as though they’ve been pulled up by the root. Even if they fade, something remains. Like tiny seeds that might germinate again if the rain falls. And even if a memory disappears completely, the heart retains something. A slight tremor or pain, some bit of joy, a tear.”
― Yōko Ogawa, The Memory Police

“It was an interesting idea, I said, that the narrative impulse might spring from the desire to avoid guilt, rather than from the need – as was generally assumed – to connect things together in a meaningful way; that it was a strategy calculated, in other words, to disburden ourselves of responsibility.”
― Rachel Cusk, Kudos

“There's a certain type of person who, having read this far, is anxiously wondering: Does something bad happen to the dog?”
― Sigrid Nunez, The Friend

“Doing no violence to living things, not even a single one of them, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

Affection comes from the company of people, misery comes from affection, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

The old bamboo is entangled, the young shoot is unattached, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

A deer goes to eat where it wants to eat, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

Give up your children and your wives and your money, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

Everyone wants your attention, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

Two bright bangles on an arm clang, a single bangle is silent, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

A bird who has torn the net, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

Fire does not return to what it has burnt, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

A tiger is not alarmed by sounds in the forest, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

Cold and heat, hunger and thirst, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

With eyes cast down, wander alone like a rhinoceros.

At home anywhere, wander alone like a rhinoceros.”
― Eliot Weinberger, An Elemental Thing