The Egg Quotes

“HERE I AM SEEN CUTTING OFF MY FINGER — A PART OF ME, A PART OF MY SELF, NO LONGER MINE, NOW YOURS TO CONSUME. AM I LESS MYSELF NOW SOMEHOW? ARE YOU NOW BECOMING ME WHILE YOU EAT ME? AM I NOW BECOMING YOU? WILL I LIVE FOREVER THROUGH YOU? WILL WE THEN INFECT EVERYTHING, INFINITELY? HERE I AM SEEN CUTTING OFF ANOTHER FINGER…WHERE WILL IT END?”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“My mind is the thought itself, and the question is the
corrosive acid that has been poured into my skull.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“At times like this the subject will open its mouth with the intention to scream, to release a mindless shriek that will pierce the armor of the domed sky above and shatter the glass that encases the universe itself, stabbing the heart of God. But no sound will emit. The lungs have collapsed and the tongue is a lifeless carcass in the mouth of the victim.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“The perfect composure and serenity of the monk as he or she burns is is illustrative of an absolute, holy awareness of the equivalence of all phenomena — screaming pain, blissful pleasure, boredom, disgust, violence, memory, thought, desire, ambition, even compassion itself, are all the laces and threads that form the Somnia that cloaks the true hidden body of Nothing, and Nothing is the white hot Love that dissolves us all in a perpetual act of creation and destruction — the infinite orgasm of Zero.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“Since the evolution of consciousness began this process has been leading to its final conclusion: one mind thinking itself.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“The finely calibrated screams of assorted BMWs, Mercedes and Audis randomly hurtled toward us from behind and to the left, then fucked the air violently at our side as they passed.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“This word has travelled from some dead, utterly black region in space, somehow insinuated its way into her lifeless brain, then suffused my own mind with its poison, leaving me completely enslaved and irrevocably transformed. The word is fuck. My name is FUCK.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“Through repetition, the infinite cataclysms of my heartbeat are rendered subliminal, but they’re always there. You just have to listen.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“My mouth is open: The Void.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“I’ll cut everything away until eventually I’m reduced to a single sensation, a soundless scream in a muffled void. My scream connotes nothing — not pain, not joy, not loss, not fear, not love, just the raw fact of my existence, eating itself forever…”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira

“Your self is laid out before you like hacked flecks of bloody spittle on a white page, forming shapes you misinterpret as your being. You’re like a monkey looking into a mirror for the first time. You’re shocked and enthralled with your image. You pull at your distended lips and twist your face in caricature. You hiss and bark like an idiot, then weep with grief. But I am the mirror. If you look closely you’ll note the mirror is empty. Nothing is here in this place, least of all you.”
― Michael Gira, The Egg: Stories by Michael Gira