Nate D > Nate D's Quotes

“...what one ought to capture in beauty is that which is treacherous and irresistible...”
― László Krasznahorkai, War & War

“I said that I have finished telling my story, not that the story is finished. I said before that no story is ever really finished, each one is part of a longer story and consists of smaller stories, some of which are told, others passed over in silence. And whenever you tell any one of the stories, whether you intend it or not, you include the shadow of all the others. The result is that once you have told one story, once you have undone the meshes of the net at one point, you are trapped. You are compelled to go on with the story. And because we ourselves, like all life, are stories, we become the story of the stories.”
― Herbert Rosendorfer, The Architect of Ruins

“May your course not run from one end to the other; for such a course does not exist; but may every step you take mark a redressed projection.
With your left foot you shall wipe out the footprint of your right foot.”
― Marcel Schwob, El libro de Monelle

“Do you believe, she went on, that the past dies?

Yes, said Margaret. Yes, if the present cuts its throat.”
― Leonora Carrington, The Seventh Horse and Other Tales

“So he lent her books. After all, one of life's best pleasures is reading a book of perfect beauty; more pleasurable still is rereading that book; most pleasurable of all is lending it to the person one loves: Now she is reading or has just read the scene with the mirrors; she who is so lovely is drinking in that loveliness I've drunk.”
― William Vollmann

“I really only write about inner landscapes and most people don’t see them, because they see practically nothing within, because they think that because it’s inside, it’s dark, and so they don’t see anything. I don’t think I’ve ever yet, in any of my books, described a landscape. There's really nothing of the kind in any of them. I only ever write concepts. And so I’m always referring to "mountains" or "a city" or "streets." But as to how they look: I've never produced a description of a landscape. That's never even interested me.”
― Thomas Bernhard

“When we think of the masterpieces that nobody praised and nobody read, back there in the past, we feel an impatient superiority to the readers of the past. If we had been there, we can’t help feeling, we’d have known that Moby-Dick was a good book—-why, how could anyone help knowing?

But suppose someone says to us, “Well, you’re here now: what’s our own Moby-Dick? What’s the book that, a hundred years from now, everybody will look down on us for not having liked?” What do we say then?”
― Randall Jarrell, The Third Book of Criticism

“The urge to leap across feminism to "human liberation" is a tragic and dangerous mistake. It deflects us from our real sources of vision, recycles us back into old definitions and structures, and continues to serve the purposes of the patriarchy, which will use "women's lib," as it contemptuously phrases it, only to buy more time for itself—as both capitalism and socialism are now doing. Feminism is a criticism and subversion of all patriarchal thought and institutions—not merely those currently seen as reactionary and tyrannical.”
― Adrienne Rich, On Lies, Secrets, and Silence. Selected Prose 1966-1978

“LOOK UPON ME! I'LL SHOW YOU THE LIFE OF THE MIND!!”
― Karl "Madman" Mundt

“The part of our being (mentality, feeling, physicality) which is free of all control let's call our 'unconscious'. Since it's free of control, it's our only defense against institutionalized meaning, institutionalized language, control, fixation, judgement, prison.

Ten years ago, it seemed possible to destroy language through language: to destroy language that normalizes and controls by cutting that language. Nonsense would attack the empire-making (empirical) empire of language, the prisons of meaning.

But this nonsense, since it depended on sense, simply pointed back to the normalizing institutions.

What is the language of the 'unconcious'? (If this ideal unconscious or freedom doesn't exist: simply pretend that it does, use fiction, for the sake of survival, for all of our survival.) Its primary language must be taboo, all that is forbidden. Thus an attack on the institutions of prison via language would demand the use of language or languages that are which aren't acceptable, which are forbidden. Language, on one level, constitutes a series of codes and social and historical agreements. Nonsense doesn't per se break down the codes; speaking precisely that which the codes forbid breaks the codes.”
― Kathy Acker, Empire of the Senseless

“The most tedious details are the most like dreams.”
― Gerhard Roth, The Will To Sickness

“But how long must she sing in the darkness until she is at last allowed out into the light of day?”
― Unica Zürn, The Man of Jasmine & Other Texts

“When he actually comes, he brings her a book containing white paper, as if it were a sign of her salvation, and she reads a dedication--something about people who have lost hope but start to swim in the whiteness of these leaves and perhaps find a new beginning with their first pen stroke.”
― Unica Zürn, The Man of Jasmine & Other Texts

“Anubis is associated with the mummification and protection of the dead for their journeys through Denver International Airport to the afterlife. He is usually portrayed as being half human and half jackal, and holding a metal detector in his hand ... Anubis is employed by the Department of Homeland Security to examine the hearts of all travellers to make sure they have not exceeded the weight limit for psychological baggage ... He is also shown frisking mummies and confiscating firearms and other contraband. It doesn't take much to tip the scales in favour of a dead body cavity search or an afterlifetime travel ban.”
― Stephen Moles, The Most Wretched Thing Imaginable or, Beneath the Burnt Umbrella

“I needed a drink, I needed a lot of life insurance, I needed a vacation, I needed a home in the country. What I had was a coat, a hat and a gun. I put them on and went out of the room.”
― Raymond Chandler, Farewell, My Lovely

“We need, in every community, a group of angelic troublemakers.”
― Bayard Rustin

“The possible has been tried and failed. Now it's time to try the impossible.”
― Sun Ra

“I had a curious feeling that I was living on several planes simultaneously; the overlapping of these planes was confusing.”
― Anna Kavan, Ice

“--How I Was Visited By Messengers--
Something clicked in the clock on the wall, and I was visited by messengers. at first, I did not realize that I was visited by messengers. instead, I thought that something was wrong with the clock. but then I saw that the clock worked just fine, and probably told the correct time. then I noticed that there was a draft in the room. and then it shocked me: what kind of thing could, at the same time, cause a clock to click and a draft to start in the room? I sat down on a chair next to the divan and looked at the clock, thinking about that. the big hand was on the number nine, and the little one on the four, therefore, it was a quarter till four. there was a calendar on the wall below the clock, and its leafs were flipping, as if there was a strong wind in my room. my heart was beating very fast and I was so scared it almost made me collapse.
"i should have some water," I said. on the table next to me was a pitcher with water. I reached out and took the pitcher.
"water should help," I said and looked at the water.
it was then that I realized that I had been visited by messengers, and that I could not tell them apart from the water. I was scared to drink the water, because I could, by accident, drink a messenger. what does that mean? nothing. one can only drink liquids. could the messengers be liquid? no. then, I can drink the water, there is nothing to be afraid of. but I couldn't find the water. I walked around the room and looked for the water. I tried putting a belt in my mouth, but it was not the water. I put the calendar in my mouth -- that also was not the water. I gave up looking for the water and started to look for the messengers. but how could I find them? what do they look like? I remembered that I could not distinguish them from the water, therefore, they must look like water. but what does water look like? I was standing and thinking. I do not know for how long I stood and thought, but suddenly I came to.
"there is the water," I thought.
but that wasn't the water and instead I got an itch in my ear.
I looked under the cupboard and under the bed, hoping that there I might find the water or the messengers. but under the cupboard, in a pile of dust, I found a little ball, half eaten by a dog, and under the bed I found some pieces of glass.
under the chair I found a half-eaten steak, I ate it and it made me feel better. it wasn't drafty anymore, the clock was ticking steadily, telling the time: a quarter till four.
"well, this means the messengers are gone," I said quietly and started to get dressed, since I had a visit to make.
-August 22, 1937”
― Daniil Kharms

“With your left foot you shall wipe out the footprint of your right foot.”
― Marcel Schwob, The Book of Monelle

“The demiurge is a hybrid”
― Alfred Kubin, The Other Side

“It's hard to know what a book is. Inside, a slender span of clock time is stored incognito. The book sits among others on the shelf for decades until its pages grow sclerotic, unable to turn; its relevance fades. Its story might manage to slide into the next book on the shelf and commune with this new book. Life contains many more surprising liberations than this. Out of that mingling, a new story arises, holding more joy than the first. Its afterword glows.”
― Stacey Levine, Mice 1961