Aside from myself, there was no sign of me.
Peleaba por descubrir sentimientos nuevos (…). Se creaban nuevas formas de alegría al tiempo que nuevas clases de tristeza. La eterna decepción de lo que es la vida, el alivio de un respiro inesperado, el miedo a la muerte”.
Sentir en las piernas las vibraciones de su voz, es percibir la realidad en toda su extensión
Érase una vez un niño que amaba a una niña, y la risa de ella era como una pregunta que él quería pasar la vida contestando
—Es mejor que sea un secreto. —¿Por qué? —Porque así no podrán quitárnoslo”.
HOW ANGELS SLEEP. Unsoundly. They toss and turn, trying to understand the mystery of the living. They know so little about what it's like to fill a new prescription for glasses and suddenly see the world again, with a mixture of disappointment and gr...
I want to say somewhere: I've tried to be forgiving. And yet. There were times in my life, whole years, when anger got the better of me. Ugliness turned me inside out. There was a certain satisfaction in bitterness. I courted it. It was standing outs...
Wittgenstein once wrote that when the eye sees something beautiful, the hand wants to draw it. I wish I could draw you.
That's what I do. Watch movies and read. Sometimes I even pretend to write, but I'm not fooling anyone. Oh, and I go to the mailbox.
Once upon a time, there was a boy. He lived in a village that no longer exists, in a house that no longer exists, on the edge of a field that no longer exists, where everything was discovered, and everything was possible. A stick could be a sword, a ...
It's one of those unforgettable moments that happen as a child, when you discover that all along the world has been betraying you.
there are two types of people in the world: those who prefer to be sad among others, and those who prefer to be sad alone.
I tried to make sense of things. Now that I think about it, I have always tried. It could be my epitaph. LEO GURSKY: HE TRIED TO MAKE SENSE.
When they write my obituary. Tomorrow. Or the next day. It will say, Leo Gursky is survived by an apartment full of shit
At times I believed that the last page of my book and the last page of my life were one and the same, that when my book ended I'd end, a great wind would sweep through my rooms carrying the pages away, and when the air cleared of all those fluttering...
The fear of death haunted me for a year. I cried whenever anyone dropped a glass or broke a picture. But even then that passed, I was left with a sadness that couldn't be rubbed off. It wasn't that something had happened. It was worse: I'd become awa...
In the days after my heart attack & before I began to write again, all I could think about was dying. I'd been spared again, and only after the danger had passed did I allow my thoughts to unravel to their inevitable end. I imagined all the ways I co...
