Bokelskere.no

'Nothing in the voice of the cicada intimates how soon it will die'

Poets are always taking the weather so personally. They're always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.

The fact is always obvious much too late, but the most singular difference between happiness and joy is that happiness is a solid and joy a liquid.

I’m standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff — I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I’d do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.

I’m sick of just liking people. I wish to God I could meet somebody I could respect.

He had a theory, Walt, that the religious life, and all the agony that goes with it, is just something God sicks on people who have the gall to accuse Him of having created an ugly world.

there are nice things in the world – I mean nice things. We’re all such morons to get so sidetracked. Always, always, always referring every goddam thing that happens right back to our lousy little egos.

No wonder men robbed banks. There were too many demeaning jobs. Why the hell wasn’t I a superior court judge or a concert pianist? Because it took training and training cost money. But I didn’t want to be anything anyhow. And I was certainly succeeding.

If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery—isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.

Everything worked in reverse. Go backwards and Nirvana leaps into your lap. Sure.

Some kind of nut. There was no avoiding them. Most of the world was mad. And the part that wasn't mad was angry. And the part that wasn't mad or angry was just stupid. I had no chance. I had no choice. Just hang on and wait for the end. It was hard work. It was the hardest work imaginable.

Begravelse - begrav Else

Ensomhet - en som het

The Edge.... There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others - the living - are those who pushed their control as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later.

It wasn't my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. God damn it.

Jeg må være den morsomte jeg kjenner. Nå kjenner du jo strengt tatt ingen andre enn meg, sier han. Men dog, sier jeg.

Det var ikke likt meg å si noe sånt. Jeg skulle ønske jeg hadde sagt noe annet.

Det er enkelt å kritisere mennesker man ikke kjenner. Godt føles det også

Bussen svinger ut og akselererer, og et øyeblikk utligner bevegelsene hverandre. Bussen på vei forover, hun på vei bakover. En liten stund er avstanden mellom dere den samme, selvom hun i virkeligheten er på full fart vekk.