Literature + Illness = Illness

But every single damn thing matters! Only we don't realize. We just tell ourselves that art runs on one track and life, our lives, on another, and we don't realize that's a lie.

The world is alive and no living thing has any remedy. That is our fortune.

Poetry and prison have always been neighbors.

Bright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.

If you're going to say what you want to say, you're going to hear what you don't want to hear.

The 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.