When autumn shadows throw their patterns across the land, they are not the images of fragile, dying leaves, not the bared arms of lofty elms, not shadows of a fading summer; but swinging shapes as of books upon a strap, of round and square boxes held under an arm, of hurrying little people heading towards the nearest school.
Djuna BarnesNone of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say. Love is the first lie; wisdom the last.
Djuna BarnesMadness to us means reversion; to such people as Una and Lena it meant progression. Now their uncle had entered into a land beyond them, the land of fancy. For fifty years he had been as they were, silent, hard-working, unimaginative. Then all of a sudden, like a scholar passing his degree, he had gone up into another form.
Djuna BarnesAnd must I, perchance, like careful writers, guard myself against the conclusions of my readers?
Djuna Barnes