Quote for Today: James Jones

Evening Parade

And the only way he had ever found, the only code, the only language by which he could speak and be heard by other men, could communicate himself, was with a bugle. If you had a bugle here, he told himself, you could speak to her and be understood, you could play Fatigue Call for her, with its tiredness, its heavy belly going out to sweep somebody else’s streets when it would rather stay home and sleep, she would understand it then.

But you haven’t got a bugle, himself said, not here nor any other place. Your tongue has been ripped out. All you got is two bottles, one nearly full, one nearly empty.
James Jones, From Here to Eternity

 

Photo: U.S. Marine Corps by Lance Cpl. Alejandro Sierras/ Released

Quote for Today: Jonathan Safran Foer

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“It’s so hard to express yourself.”

“I understand this.”

“I want to express myself.”

“The same is true for me.”

“I’m looking for my voice.”

“It’s in your mouth.”

“I want to do something I’m not ashamed of.”

“Something you are proud of, yes?”

“Not even. I just don’t want to be ashamed.”

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay

Quote for Today: William Faulkner

 

Masson, Proliferation

The aim of every artist is to arrest motion, which is life, by artificial means and hold it fixed so that a hundred years later, when a stranger looks at it, it moves again since it is life. Since man is mortal, the only immortality possible for him is to leave something behind him that is immortal since it will always move.

William Faulkner

Image: André Masson, Prolifèration, 1956

Quote for Today: Suzanne Berne

Lying Down Reading Female Young Woman People Book

We are known, appreciated, even cherished by our favorite writers; every word of our favorite books seems to have been written for us. Within their sentences and paragraphs, those writers are forever available, forever patient, including us in their compassionate recognition of the impossible, exhausting complexity of being human (those “many thousand” selves), never ignoring us or abandoning us or finding us dull. It’s you, they whisper, as we turn their pages, you are the one I’ve been waiting to tell everything to.
Suzanne Berne

Public Domain Image via MaxPixel

Quote for Today: Bret Easton Ellis

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A curtain of stars, miles of them, are scattered, glowing, across the sky and their multitude humbles me, which I have a hard time tolerating. She shrugs and nods after I say something about forms of anxiety. It’s as if her mind is having a hard time communicating with her mouth, as if she is searching for a rational analysis of who I am, which is, of course, an impossibility: there… is… no… key.
Bret Easton Ellis, American Psycho

Public Domain Image via GoodFreePhotos.com

Quote for Today: Philip K. Dick

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Maybe each human being lives in a unique world, a private world, a world different from those inhabited and experienced by all other humans. And that led me to wonder, If reality differs from person to person, can we speak of reality singular, or shouldn’t we really be talking about plural realities? And if there are plural realities, are some more true (more real) than others? What about the world of a schizophrenic? Maybe, it’s as real as our world. Maybe we cannot say that we are in touch with reality and he is not, but should instead say, His reality is so different from ours that he can’t explain his to us, and we can’t explain ours to him. The problem, then, is that if subjective worlds are experienced too differently, there occurs a breakdown of communication… and there is the real illness.
Philip K. Dick, How to Build a Universe That Doesn’t Fall Apart Two Days Later
Image: In your face, pal © Matthew G with CCLicense

Quote for Today: Fyodor Dostoyevsky

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There is something at the bottom of every new human thought, every thought of genius, or even every earnest thought that springs up in any brain, which can never be communicated to others, even if one were to write volumes about it and were explaining one’s idea for thirty-five years; there’s something left which cannot be induced to emerge from your brain, and remains with you forever; and with it you will die, without communicating to anyone perhaps the most important of your ideas.
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Idiot
Image: Pit From the Bottom © Giobabi with CCLicense