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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

Poetry is the one thing that isn’t contaminated, the one thing that isn’t part of the game.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Contamination Game Poetry
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
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
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
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
Being alone makes us stronger. That’s the honest truth. But it’s cold comfort, since even if I wanted company no one will come near me anymore.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Alone Company Honesty Myself Strong Truth
We’re artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don’t we?
ROBERTO BOLANO

Artist Goodness Hide Job
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
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
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
Every hundred feet the world changes.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Change Travel World
When I was done traveling, I returned convinced of one thing: we’re nothing.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Myself Return Traveling
The sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.
ROBERTO BOLANO

Flower Sky Sunset
Only in chaos are we conceivable.
ROBERTO BOLANO

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

Dreams Fade Goodness Light Morning
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

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.

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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.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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