the worst part about being lied to is knowing you werent worth the truth
I considered calmly that I was born to write.
Absurd, irreducible; nothing--not even a profound and secret delirium of nature--could explain [a tree root].
What I see is teeming cohesion, contained dispersal... For him, to sculpt is to take the fat off space.
Things are entirely what they appear to be and behind them... there is nothing.
The world would get along very well without literature. It would get along even better without man.