Drink up, boys, drink up and donโt worry, if we finish this bottle weโll go down and buy another one. Of course, it wonโt be the same as the one weโve got now, but itโll still be better than nothing. Ah, what a shame they donโt make Los Suicidas mezcal anymore, what a shame that time pases, donโt you think? what a shame that we die, and get old, and everything good goes galloping away from us.
Roberto BolanoLiterature is a vast forest and the masterpieces are the lakes, the towering trees or strange trees, the lovely, eloquent flowers, the hidden caves, but a forest is also made up of ordinary trees, patches of grass, puddles, clinging vines, mushrooms, and little wildflowers.
Roberto BolanoWhat twisted people we are. How simple we seem, or at least pretend to be in front of others, and how twisted we are deep down. How paltry we are and how spectacularly we contort ourselves before our own eyes, and the eyes of others...And all for what? To hide what? To make people believe what?
Roberto BolanoIโm seventeen years old, my name is Juan Garcรญa Madero, and Iโm in my first semester of law school. I wanted to study literature, not law, but my uncle insisted, and in the end I gave in. Iโm an orphan, and someday Iโll be a lawyer. Thatโs what I told my aunt and uncle, and then I shut myself in my room and cried all night.
Roberto BolanoThe diseased, anyway, are more interesting than the healthy. The words of the diseased, even those who can manage only a murmur, carry more weight than those of the healthy. Then, too, all healthy people will in the future know disease. That sense of time, ah, the diseased manโs sense of time, what treasure hidden in a desert cave. Then, too the diseased truly bite, whereas the healthy pretend to bite but really only snap at the air. Then, too, then, too, then, too.
Roberto Bolano