Roberto Bolaño: Frases en inglés (página 2)

“I kept having dreams all night. I thought they were touching me with their fingers. But dreams don't have fingers, they have fists, so it must have been scorpions.”

“The truth is we never stop being children, terrible children covered in sores and knotty veins and tumors and age spots, but ultimately children, in other words we never stop clinging to life because we are life.”

“The secret story is the one we'll never know, although we're living it from day to day, thinking we're alive, thinking we've got it all under control and the stuff we overlook doesn't matter. 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.”

“There's no place on earth with more dumb girls per square foot than a college in California.”

“You have to know how to look even if you don't know what you're looking for.”

“Being alone makes us stronger. That’s the honest truth. But it’s cold comfort, since even if I wanted company no one will come near me anymore.”

“Every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me.”

“Reading is more important than writing.”

“As 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.”

“We play at believing ourselves imortal. We delude oursleves in the appraisal of our own works and in our perpetual misappraisal of the works of others. See you at the Nobel, writers say, as one might say: see you in hell.”

“There's a time for reciting poems and a time for fists. As far as I was concerned, this was the latter.”

“Metaphors are our way of losing ourselves in semblances or treading water in a sea of seeming.”

“They could read him, they could study him, they could pick him apart, but they couldn't laugh or be sad with him….”

“I'll tell you, my friends: it's all in the nerves. The nerves that tense and relax as you approach the edges of companionship and love. The razor-sharp edges of companionship and love.”

“You can woo a girl with a poem, but you can't hold onto her with a poem. Not even with a poetry movement.”

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

“We're artists too, but we do a good job hiding it, don't we?”

“When 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.”

“For her, reading was directly linked to pleasure, not to knowledge or enigmas or constructions or verbal labyrinths…”