black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

But every single damn thing matters! Only we don’t realize. We just tell ourselves that art runs on one track and life, our lives, on another, and we don’t realize that’s a lie.

Roberto Bolano

You have to know how to look even if you don’t know what you’re looking for.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Known Yourself
When I was done traveling, I returned convinced of one thing: we’re nothing.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Myself Return Traveling
When you die of sorrow it’s as if you’ve broken all the bones in your body, bruised yourself all over, cracked your skull. That’s sorrow.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Body Bone Death Sorrow Yourself
Poetry and prison have always been neighbors.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Neighbor Poetry Prison
Nothing happened today. And if anything did, I’d rather not talk about it, because I didn’t understand it.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Myself Talk Understand
If life is misery, why do we endure it?
ROBERTO BOLANO

Endurance Life Misery
Reading is more important than writing.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Important Reading Writing
Only in chaos are we conceivable.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Chaos Conceive
They could read him, they could study him, they could pick him apart, but they couldn’t laugh or be sad with him.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Himself Laughter Reading Sadness Study
Nothing is ever behind us.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Pace Right Time
For her, reading was directly linked to pleasure, not to knowledge or enigmas or constructions or verbal labyrinths.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Construction Knowledge Pleasure Reading Verbal
Every hundred feet the world changes.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Change Travel World
I’d obviously never heard of the group, but my ignorance in literary matters is to blame for that (every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me).
ROBERTO BOLANO

Group Ignorance Myself Reading World
Death, in the Eastern tradition, was only a passage. What wasn’t clear, was toward what place, what reality, that passage led.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Death Passage Reality Tradition
Literature + Illness = Illness.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Illness Literature
Dreams fade with morning light, Never a morn for thee, Dreamer of dreams, goodnight.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Dreams Fade Goodness Light Morning

But every single damn thing matters! Only we don’t realize. We just tell ourselves that art runs on one track and life, our lives, on another, and we don’t realize that’s a lie.

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But every single damn thing matters! Only we don’t realize. We just tell ourselves that art runs on one track and life, our lives, on another, and we don’t realize that’s a lie.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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