Then he went out without touching anything and put his arm around Ingeborg, and like that, with their arms around each other, they returned to the village while the whole past of the universe fell on their heads.
ROBERTO BOLANOThen he went out without touching anything and put his arm around Ingeborg, and like that, with their arms around each other, they returned to the village while the whole past of the universe fell on their heads.
ROBERTO BOLANOWe never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain.
ROBERTO BOLANONothing good ever comes of love. What comes of love is always something better.
ROBERTO BOLANOPoetry is the one thing that isn’t contaminated, the one thing that isn’t part of the game.
ROBERTO BOLANOIn some lost fold of the past, we wanted to be lions and we’re no more than castrated cats
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 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 BOLANODreams fade with morning light, Never a morn for thee, Dreamer of dreams, goodnight.
ROBERTO BOLANOI realized my happiness was artificial. I felt happy because I saw the others were happy and because I knew I should feel happy, but I wasn’t really happy.
ROBERTO BOLANOWhen 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 BOLANOI decided to tell the truth even if it meant being pointed at.
ROBERTO BOLANONothing happened today. And if anything did, I’d rather not talk about it, because I didn’t understand it.
ROBERTO BOLANOYou have to know how to look even if you don’t know what you’re looking for.
ROBERTO BOLANOBright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.
ROBERTO BOLANOReading is pleasure and happiness to be alive or sadness to be alive and above all it’s knowledge and questions.
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