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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

Bright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Color Dance Night
I’m an educated man, the prisons I know are subtle ones.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Education Man Oneself Prison Subtle
So everything lets us down, including curiosity and honesty and what we love best. Yes, said the voice, but cheer up, it’s fun in the end.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Curiosity End Fun Honesty Voice
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
There is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Fist Poem Recite Time
The 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 BOLANO

Constant Mirror Pain Poverty Voice Wealth
Dreams fade with morning light, Never a morn for thee, Dreamer of dreams, goodnight.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Dreams Fade Goodness Light Morning
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
Every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Book Myself Reading Wait World
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
I kept having dreams all night. I thought they were touching me with their fingers. But dreams don’t have fingers, they have fists, so it must have been scorpions.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Dreams Fingers Thinking Touching
We’re artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don’t we?
ROBERTO BOLANO

Artist Goodness Hide Job
we interpret life at moments of the deepest desperation.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Desperation Life Moments
Only in chaos are we conceivable.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Chaos Conceive
The world is alive and no living thing has any remedy. That is our fortune.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Alive Fortune Ourselves World
When people read his books they have an uncontrollable desire to hang the author in the town square. I can’t think of a higher honor for a writer.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Book Control Desire Myself People Reading Writing

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.

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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.

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Popular Authors

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