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 BOLANOAs 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 BOLANOReading is more important than writing.
ROBERTO BOLANONothing is ever behind us.
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 BOLANOReading is pleasure and happiness to be alive or sadness to be alive and above all it’s knowledge and questions.
ROBERTO BOLANOBright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.
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 BOLANOThere is a time for reciting poems and a time for fists.
ROBERTO BOLANOWe never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain.
ROBERTO BOLANOI decided to tell the truth even if it meant being pointed at.
ROBERTO BOLANOWe’re artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don’t we?
ROBERTO BOLANOThe sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.
ROBERTO BOLANOBeing 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 BOLANOI 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 BOLANOEvery hundred feet the world changes.
ROBERTO BOLANOwe interpret life at moments of the deepest desperation.
ROBERTO BOLANO