Quotes from Ask the Dust

“Almighty God, I am sorry I am now an atheist, but have You read Nietzsche?”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“You are nobody, and I might have been somebody, and the road to each of us is love.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“We talked, she and I. She asked about my work and it was a pretense, she was not interested in my work. And when I answered, it was a pretense. I was not interested in my work either. There was only one thing that interested us, and she knew it. She had made it plain by her coming.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“I have wanted women whose very shoes are worth all I have ever possessed.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Arturo Bandini: -What does happiness mean to you Camilla?
Camilla: -That you can fall in love with whoever you want to,
and not feel ashamed of it.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“She was forcing it with her scorn, the kiss she gave me, the hard curl of her lips, the mockery of her eyes, until I was like a man made of wood and there was no feeling within me except terror and a fear of her, a sense that her beauty was too much, that she was so much more beautiful than I, deeper rooted than I. She made me a stranger unto myself, she was all of those calm nights and tall eucalyptus trees, the desert stars, that land and sky, that fog outside, and I had come there with no purpose save to be a mere writer, to get money, to make a name for myself and all that piffle. She was so much finer than I, so much more honest, that I was sick of myself and I could not look at her warm eyes, I suppressed the shiver brought on by her brown arms around my neck and the long fingers in my hair. I did not kiss her. She kissed me, author of The Little Dog Laughed. Then she took my wrist with her two hands. She pressed her lips into the palm of my hand. She placed my hand upon her bosom between her breasts. She turned her lips towards my face and waited. And Arturo Bandini, the great author dipped deep into his colourful imagination, romantic Arturo Bandini, just chock-full of clever phrases, and he said, weakly, kittenishly, 'Hello.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“I was twenty then. What the hell, I used to say, take your time, Bandini. You got ten years to write a book, so take it easy, get out and learn about life, walk the streets. That’s your trouble: your ignorance of life.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“(...) I let go, crying and unable to stop because God was such a dirty crook, contemptible skunk, that's what he was for doing that thing to that woman. Come down out of the skies, you God, come on down and I'll hammer your face all over the city of Los Angeles, you miserable unpardonable prankster. If it wasn't for you, this woman would not have been so maimed, and neither would the world, (...)”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Ah, Los Angeles! Dust and fog of your lonely streets, I am no longer lonely. Just you wait, all of you ghosts of this room, just you wait, because it will happen, as sure as there's a God in heaven.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“All that was good in me thrilled in my heart at that moment, all that I hoped for in the profound, obscure meaning of my existence. Here was the endlessly mute placidity of nature, indifferent to the great city; here was the desert beneath these streets, around these streets, waiting for the city to die, to cover it with timeless sand once more. There came over me a terrifying sense of understanding about the meaning and the pathetic destiny of men. The desert was always there, a patient white animal, waiting for men to die, for civilizations to flicker and pass into the darkness. Then men seemed brave to me, and I was proud to be numbered among them. All the evil of the world seemed not evil at all, but inevitable and good and part of that endless struggle to keep the desert down.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“So what’s the use of repentance, and what do you care for goodness, and what if you should die in a quake, so who the hell cares? So I walked downtown, so these were the high buildings, so let the earthquake come, let it bury me and my sins, so who the hell cares? No good to God or man, die one way or another, a quake or a hanging, it didn’t matter why or when or how.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“The old folk from Indiana and Iowa and Illinois, from Boston and Kansas City and Des Moines, they sold their homes and their stores, and they came here by train and by automobile to the land of sunshine, to die in the sun, with just enough money to live until the sun killed them, tore themselves out by the roots in their last days, deserted the smug prosperity of Kansas City and Chicago and Peoria to find a place in the sun. And when they got here they found that other and greater thieves had already taken possession, that even the sun belonged to the others; Smith and Jones and Parker, druggist, banker, baker, dust of Chicago and Cincinnati and Cleveland on their shoes, doomed to die in the sun, a few dollars in the bank, enough to subscribe to the Los Angeles Times, enough to keep alive the illusion that this was paradise, that their little papier-mâché homes were castles.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Ah, Evelyn and Vivian, I love you both, I love you for your sad lives, the empty misery of your coming home at dawn. You too are alone, but you are not like Arturo Bandini, who is neither fish, fowl nor good red herring. So have your champagne, because I love you both, and you too, Vivian, even if your mouth looks like it had been dug out with raw fingernails and your old child's eyes swim in blood written like mad sonnets.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“I have seen them stagger out of their movie palaces and blink their empty eyes in the face of reality once more, and stagger home, to read the Times, to find out what's going on in the world. I have vomited at their newspapers, read their literature, observed their customs, eaten their food, desired their women, gaped at their art. But I am poor, and my name ends with a soft vowel, and they hate me and my father, and my father's father, and they would have my blood and put me down, but they are old now, dying in the sun and in the hot dust of the road, and I am young and full of hope and love for my country and my times, and when I say Greaser to you it is not my heart that speaks, but the quivering of an old wound, and I am ashamed of the terrible thing I have done.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“I didn't ask any questions. Everything I wanted to know was written in tortured phrases across the desolation of her face.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“ماذا ينفع الإنسانْ إذا ربحَ العالم وخسرَ نفسه ؟”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“So it happened at last: I was about to become a thief, a cheap milk-stealer. Here was your lash-in-the-pen genius, your one story-writer: a thief.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“My advice to all young writers is quite simple. I would caution them never to evade a new experience. I would urge them to live life in the raw, to grapple with it bravely, to attack it with naked fists.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Yaşamak yeterince zor, ölmekse büyük işti.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“نصيحتي إلى الكتاب الشباب جميعهم بسيطة جداً ، سأحذرهم بألا يتجنبوا أبداً التجارب الجديدة . وأصّر عليهم أن يعيشوا الحياة في مادتها الخام ، ومواجهتها بشجاعة ومقاتلتها بقبضاتٍ عارية ..”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“I took the steps down Angel’s Flight to Hill Street: a hundred and forty steps, with tight fists, frightened of no man, but scared of the Third Street Tunnel, scared to walk through it – claustrophobia. Scared of high places too, and of blood, and of earthquakes; otherwise, quite fearless, excepting death, except the fear I’ll scream in a crowd, except the fear of appendicitis, except the fear of heart trouble, even that, sitting in his room holding the clock and pressing his jugular vein, counting out his heartbeats, listening to the weird purr and whirr of his stomach. Otherwise, quite fearless.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Careful, Arturo Bandini: don't strain your eyesight, remember what happened to Tarkington, remember what happened to James Joyce.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Jesus, these Protestants! In my church we didn't sing cheap hymns. With us it was Handel and Palestrina.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Vicdan azabı içerisinde bağışlanmayı düşündü. İyi de, kimden? Hangi Tanrı'dan? O bir zamanlar inandığı bir mitken, mit olduklarını hissettiğim inançlara dönüşmüşlerdi.

Bu "Deniz" bu da "İnsan", deniz gerçek ve İnsan Denizin gerçek olduğuna inanıyor. Sonra başını başka tarafa; Denizden öteye çeviriyor İnsan ve her yer Kara. Yürüyor, yürüyor her yer uçsuz bucaksız Kara. Bir yıl, beş yıl, on yıl geçiyor Deniz'i hiç göremiyor. Denize ne oldu, diye soruyor kendine. Geride kaldı, diye yanıtlıyor İnsan, hafızamda saklı. Deniz bir mit. Hiç yoktu! Ama Deniz vardı! Deniz kıyısında doğdun ey İnsan! Yüzdün o Denizin sularında! Doyurdu, huzur verdi sana. Büyüleyici uzaklıkları ile düşleri besledi.

Hayır belki de Deniz hiç olmadı. Düş gördü İnsan, olmasını diledi sadece, baksana Karada yürüyor yıllardır. Gördü mü bir birikinti dahi. Denizi göremeyecek artık İnsan. Bir zamanlar var olduğunu sandığı o mit.

Ama diyor İnsan gülümseyerek, hala Denizin tuzu ağzında: Binlerce Karayolu dahi olsa da kafam karışmaz çünkü yüreğimdeki kan o harikulade kaynağına; Denize, geri dönecektir."

│ John Fante - Toza Sor”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“¿Resucitan los muertos? Los libros dicen que no, la noche grita que sí”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Sinema salonlarından çıkıp gerçeğe alışabilmek için gözlerini kırpıştırdıklarını gördüm, dünyada neler olup bittiğini öğrenmek için sendeleyerek evlerine Times okumaya gidişlerini izledim. Onların gazetelerine kustum ben, edebiyatlarını okudum, örf ve adetlerine uydum, yemeklerini yedim, sanatlarına esnedim. Ama ben yoksulum, soyadımın sonu ünlü bir harfle bitiyor ve benden nefret ediyorlar, babamdan ve babamın babasından da, ellerinden gelse kanımı içerler ama yaşlanmışlar artık, güneşin altında ölüyorlar, oysa ben genç ve umut doluyum, yaşadığımız zamanı ve ülkemi seviyorum ve sana Yağlı dediğimde yüreğim değildi konuşan, eski bir yara titreşti sadece. Yaptığımdan çok utanıyorum.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Oh how I hate you, you filthy. But you're cleaner than me, because you've got no mind to sell, just that poor flesh.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Murderer or bartender or writer, it didn’t matter: his fate was the common fate of all, his finish my finish; and here tonight in this city of darkened windows were other millions like him and like me: as indistinguishable as dying blades of grass. Living was hard enough. Dying was a supreme task.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Uzun parmaklarını aç ve yorgun ruhumu geri ver. Ağzınla öp beni çünkü açım ekmeğe. burun deliklerime yitik kentlerin kokusunu üfle ve ellerim unutulmuş bir güney sahilini andıran beyaz gerdanında, ölmeme izin ver. Şu uykusuz gözlerimdeki özlemi al ve bir güz tarlasında uçuşan kırlangıçları besle onunla çünkü seni seviyorum, ve adın dönmeyen sevgilisi için son nefesini verirken gülümseyen cesur prensesin adı kadar kutsal...”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

“Los Angeles, give me some of you! Los Angeles come to me the way I came to you, my feet over your streets, you pretty town I loved you so much, you sad flower in the sand, you pretty town.”
― John Fante, quote from Ask the Dust

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Popular quotes

“Can I view thee panting, lying
On thy stomach, without sighing;
Can I unmoved see thee dying
On a log
Expiring frog!”
― Charles Dickens, quote from The Pickwick Papers

“But the lies she told were woven into the fabric of her being, her life; so that to live with her and love her was to become slowly enmeshed by them, to wrestle her for the truth, to struggle to maintain foothold on reality.”
― Robert Galbraith, quote from The Cuckoo's Calling

“I desire no future that will break the ties of the past.”
― George Eliot, quote from The Mill on the Floss

“It is lonely behind these boundaries. Some people-particularly those whom psychiatrists call schizoid-because of unpleasant, traumatizing experiences in childhood, perceive the world outside of themselves as unredeemably dangerous, hostile, confusing and unnurturing. Such people feel their boundaries to be protecting and comforting and find a sense of safety in their loneliness. But most of us feel our loneliness to be painful and yearn to escape from behind the walls of our individual identities to a condition in which we can be more unified with the world outside of ourselves. The experience of falling in love allows us this escapetemporarily. The essence of the phenomenon of falling in love is a sudden collapse of a section of an individual's ego boundaries, permitting one to merge his or her identity with that of another person. The sudden release of oneself from oneself, the explosive pouring out of oneself into the beloved, and the dramatic surcease of loneliness accompanying this collapse of ego boundaries is experienced by most of us as ecstatic. We and our beloved are one! Loneliness is no more!

In some respects (but certainly not in all) the act of falling in love is an act of regression. The experience of merging with the loved one has in it echoes from the time when we were merged with our mothers in infancy. Along with the merging we also reexperience the sense of omnipotence which we had to give up in our journey out of childhood. All things seem possible! United with our beloved we feel we can conquer all obstacles. We believe that the strength of our love will cause the forces of opposition to bow down in submission and melt away into the darkness. All problems will be overcome. The future will be all light. The unreality of these feelings when we have fallen in love is essentially the same as the unreality of the two-year-old who feels itself to be king of the family and the world with power unlimited.

Just as reality intrudes upon the two-year-old's fantasy of omnipotence so does reality intrude upon the fantastic unity of the couple who have fallen in love. Sooner or later, in response to the problems of daily living, individual will reasserts itself. He wants to have sex; she doesn't. She wants to go to the movies; he doesn't. He wants to put money in the bank; she wants a dishwasher. She wants to talk about her job; he wants to talk about his. She doesn't like his friends; he doesn't like hers. So both of them, in the privacy of their hearts, begin to come to the sickening realization that they are not one with the beloved, that the beloved has and will continue to have his or her own desires, tastes, prejudices and timing different from the other's. One by one, gradually or suddenly, the ego boundaries snap back into place; gradually or suddenly, they fall out of love. Once again they are two separate individuals. At this point they begin either to dissolve the ties of their relationship or to initiate the work of real loving.”
― M. Scott Peck, quote from The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values and Spiritual Growth

“An hour of your life is worth more than a thousand people to me.”
― Nalini Singh, quote from Slave to Sensation

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