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Literature is the product of a strange rain of blood, sweat, semen, and tears.

Roberto Bolano

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
Reading is like thinking, like praying, like talking to a friend, like expressing your ideas, like listening to other people’s ideas, like listening to music, like looking at the view, like taking a walk on the beach.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Friendship People Prayer Reading Thinking View Walk
Poetry and prison have always been neighbors.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Neighbor Poetry Prison
The moon is fat and the night air is so pure it seems edible.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Edible Fat Moon Night Purity
If life is misery, why do we endure it?
ROBERTO BOLANO

Endurance Life Misery
I decided to tell the truth even if it meant being pointed at.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Art Decision Point Truth
Jesus is the masterpiece. The thieves are minor works. Why are they there? Not to frame the crucifixion, as some innocent souls believe, but to hide it.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Believe Frame Innocent Masterpiece Soul Work
The world is alive and no living thing has any remedy. That is our fortune.
ROBERTO BOLANO

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

Known Yourself
Every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Book Myself Reading Wait World
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
Poetry is the one thing that isn’t contaminated, the one thing that isn’t part of the game.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Contamination Game Poetry
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
If 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 BOLANO

Arrest Myself Retard Thinking
As time goes by, as time goes by, the whip-crack of the years, the precipice of illusions, the ravine that swallows up all human endeavour except the struggle to survive.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Human Illusion Struggle Survive Swallow Time
We never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Book Death Philosophy Reading Stop
You run risks. That’s the plain truth. You run risks and, even in the most unlikely places, you are subject to destiny’s whims.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Plain Risk Run Subject Truth
No one pays attention to these killings, but the secret of the world is hidden in them.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Attention Hide Kill Oneself Pay Secret
Only in chaos are we conceivable.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Chaos Conceive
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
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

Art Lying Ourselves Realize
In some lost fold of the past, we wanted to be lions and we’re no more than castrated cats
ROBERTO BOLANO

Ability Goal Lost Potential Tiger
For 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

Alien Each Other Moments Place Sound
Metaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Assume Lose Sea Water
Reading is pleasure and happiness to be alive or sadness to be alive and above all it’s knowledge and questions.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Happiness Knowledge Pleasure Question Reading
The truth is we never stop being children, terrible children covered in sores and knotty veins and tumors and age spots, but ultimately children, in other words we never stop clinging to life because we are life.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Children Grow Up Life Philosophy Stop Truth
Nothing is ever behind us.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Pace Right Time

Literature is the product of a strange rain of blood, sweat, semen, and tears.

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Literature is the product of a strange rain of blood, sweat, semen, and tears.

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