we interpret life at moments of the deepest desperation.
ROBERTO BOLANOwe interpret life at moments of the deepest desperation.
ROBERTO BOLANOFor her, reading was directly linked to pleasure, not to knowledge or enigmas or constructions or verbal labyrinths.
ROBERTO BOLANOThey could read him, they could study him, they could pick him apart, but they couldn’t laugh or be sad with him.
ROBERTO BOLANOThe sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.
ROBERTO BOLANOIf I were to say what I really think I would be arrested or shut away in a lunatic asylum. Come on, I am sure that it would be the same for everyone.
ROBERTO BOLANONo one pays attention to these killings, but the secret of the world is hidden in them.
ROBERTO BOLANOReading is pleasure and happiness to be alive or sadness to be alive and above all it’s knowledge and questions.
ROBERTO BOLANOThe secret story is the one we’ll never know, although we’re living it from day to day, thinking we’re alive, thinking we’ve got it all under control and the stuff we overlook doesn’t matter.
ROBERTO BOLANOBut 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 BOLANOWe’re artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don’t we?
ROBERTO BOLANOMetaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming.
ROBERTO BOLANOThe American mirror, said the voice, the sad American mirror of wealth and poverty and constant useless metamorphosis, the mirror that sails and whose sails are pain.
ROBERTO BOLANOI decided to tell the truth even if it meant being pointed at.
ROBERTO BOLANOIf you’re going to say what you want to say, you’re going to hear what you don’t want to hear.
ROBERTO BOLANODreams fade with morning light, Never a morn for thee, Dreamer of dreams, goodnight.
ROBERTO BOLANOFor a moment the two of them looked at each other, wordless, as if they were asleep and their dreams had converged on common ground, a place where sound was alien.
ROBERTO BOLANO