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The Night of the ...
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Herzog on Herzog by Paul Cronin
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Silk by Alessandro Baricco
Silk
by Alessandro Baricco
read in March, 2013
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Fetiche by Boris Izaguirre
Fetiche
by Boris Izaguirre
read in February, 2013
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The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky
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Paul Bowles Photographs by Paul Bowles
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Paul Bowles, el recluso de Tánger by Mohamed Choukri
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In Touch; The Letters Of Paul Bowles by Jeffrey   Miller
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The Indian Clerk by David Leavitt
The Indian Clerk
by David Leavitt
read in January, 2013
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Hernan is on page 45 of 485 of The Indian Clerk
The Indian Clerk by David Leavitt
The Indian Clerk
by David Leavitt
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More of Hernan's books…
Anaïs Nin
“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
Anaïs Nin

William S. Burroughs
“A paranoid is someone who knows a little of what's going on. ”
William S. Burroughs

Paul Bowles
“Because we don't know when we will die, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, an afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four, five times more, perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps 20. And yet it all seems limitless.”
Paul Bowles

Paul Bowles
“Immediately when you arrive in Sahara, for the first or the tenth time, you notice the stillness. An incredible, absolute silence prevails outside the towns; and within, even in busy places like the markets, there is a hushed quality in the air, as if the quiet were a conscious force which, resenting the intrusion of sound, minimizes and disperses sound straightaway. Then there is the sky, compared to which all other skies seem fainthearted efforts. Solid and luminous, it is always the focal point of the landscape. At sunset, the precise, curved shadow of the earth rises into it swiftly from the horizon, cutting into light section and dark section. When all daylight is gone, and the space is thick with stars, it is still of an intense and burning blue, darkest directly overhead and paling toward the earth, so that the night never really goes dark.
You leave the gate of the fort or town behind, pass the camels lying outside, go up into the dunes, or out onto the hard, stony plain and stand awhile alone. Presently, you will either shiver and hurry back inside the walls, or you will go on standing there and let something very peculiar happen to you, something that everyone who lives there has undergone and which the French call 'le bapteme de solitude.' It is a unique sensation, and it has nothing to do with loneliness, for loneliness presupposes memory. Here in this wholly mineral landscape lighted by stars like flares, even memory disappears...A strange, and by no means pleasant, process of reintergration begins inside you, and you have the choice of fighting against it, and insisting on remaining the person you have always been, or letting it take its course. For no one who has stayed in the Sahara for a while is quite the same as when he came.
...Perhaps the logical question to ask at this point is: Why go? The answer is that when a man has been there and undergone the baptism of solitude he can't help himself. Once he has been under the spell of the vast luminous, silent country, no other place is quite strong enough for him, no other surroundings can provide the supremely satisfying sensation of existing in the midst of something that is absolute. He will go back, whatever the cost in time or money, for the absolute has no price.”
Paul Bowles, Their Heads are Green and Their Hands are Blue: Scenes from the Non-Christian World

Paul Bowles
“Security is a false God. Begin to make sacrifices to it and you are lost.”
Paul Bowles

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