James Purdy · 300 pages
Rating: (257 votes)
“Some people confess in the flesh, others on paper.”
“Why, if Daniel Haws was to take out his naked cock and shake it in your face, you’d die of apoplexy.”
“Mexican marijuana, which he called the schoolboy’s consolation.”
“Amos, talk about pearls for teeth ... you got ‘em. No wonder the boys go for you, because I could too and if I had something to push between those pearly teeth I’d be first in line.”
“It was paper, as he had once joked to Amos, that he was really queer for.”
“One fine day you’ve got to give your body to somebody, or turn into a fully-fledged zombie.”
“Carla had the American woman’s fixed idea that love can cure, love can heal, love can bind a flowing wound.”
“She made no point of concealing the truth, for the truth was all she could bear now.”
“Ace sat down and inflated his cheeks like the wind gods in Italian paintings.”
“Most people have their buttons,” Eustace continued.”
“There was the cruel kind of Eustace silence.”
“Maureen had been born with the face of a gargoyle on the body of a sylph.”
“One morning while drinking coffee with Amos, Daniel Haws looked up suddenly, as if feeling the boy’s eyes on him, and said:
“Tryin’ to burn holes starin’ like that?”
“Guess I was just resting my eyes on you so as not to look at your wallpaper,” Amos gave a sour apology.
Daniel closed the book he was reading, a volume of Rhodes’s history of the United States, and took a careful look at the kitchen wallpaper.
“Yes,” he admitted, “that wallpaper is goddam ancient.”
“Don't make me kill you at this hour in the morning Jimmy. It's not civilized.”
“Da, to su muke koje muče ljudi hrišćani sa Levanta i koje vi, pripadnici hrišćanskog Zapada,
ne možete nikad potpuno razumeti, isto kao što ih još manje mogu razumeti Turci. To je sudbina levantinskog čoveka, jer on je poussière humaine, ljudska prašina, što mučno promiče između Istoka i Zapada, ne pripadajući ni jednom a bijena od oba. To su ljudi koji znaju mnogo jezika, ali nijedan nije njihov, koji poznaju dve vere, ali ni u jednoj nisu tvrdi. To su žrtve fatalne ljudske podvojenosti na hrišćane i nehrišćane; večiti tumači i posrednici, a koji u sebi nose toliko nejasnosti i nedorečnosti; dobri znalci Istoka i Zapada i njihovih običaja i verovanja, ali podjednako prezreni i sumnjivi jednoj i drugoj strani. Na njih se mogu primeniti reči koje je pre šest vekova napisao veliki Dželaledin, Dželaledin Rumi: »Jer samog sebe ne mogu da poznam. Niti sam hrišćanin, ni Jevrejin, ni Pars, ni musliman. Nit’ sam sa Istoka ni sa Zapada, ni sa kopna ni sa mora.« malo, izdvojeno čovečanstvo koje grca pod dvostrukim Istočnim grehom, i koje treba još jednom da bude spaseno i otkupljeno a niko ne vidi kako ni od koga. To su ljudi sa granice, duhovne i fizičke, sa crne i krvave linije koja je usled nekog teškog i apsurdnog nesporazuma potegnuta između ljudi, božjih stvorenja, između kojih ne treba i ne sme da bude granice. To je ona ivica između mora i kopna, osuđena na večiti pokret i nemir. To je treći svet u koji se sleglo sve prokletstvo usled podeljenosti zemlje na dva sveta. To je...”
“I'd give anything right now to go back, even just for a few moments, so I could pay more attention. Inscribe every detail of him, and of us together, onto my heart, where I could keep it safe always. Where even time couldn't erase it.”
“The purpose of Art,” his mother, Sylvie, said—instructed even—“is to convey the truth of a thing, not to be the truth itself.”
“The air was cool and fresh and smelled of the kelp and salt that streamed in off the bay at the full of the tide. The sun was high in the tender vault of the sky, and the thunderheads that would sweep in late in the day were still only white marble puffs at the margins of the sky, solid and silver-lined. There was a blue clarity about the horizon and the distant hills that spoke of a weather change but not for another day or two. Along the meadows' edges, as we drove past, I saw pink clover and purple lupine, hawkweed and wild daylilies. Brilliant pink wild azaleas, called lambkill here, flickered like wildfire in the birch groves. Daisies, buttercups, wild columbine, and the purple flags of wild iris starred the roadside. Behind them all was the eternal dark of the pines and firs and spruce thickets and, between those, the glittering indigo of the bay.”
BookQuoters is a community of passionate readers who enjoy sharing the most meaningful, memorable and interesting quotes from great books. As the world communicates more and more via texts, memes and sound bytes, short but profound quotes from books have become more relevant and important. For some of us a quote becomes a mantra, a goal or a philosophy by which we live. For all of us, quotes are a great way to remember a book and to carry with us the author’s best ideas.
We thoughtfully gather quotes from our favorite books, both classic and current, and choose the ones that are most thought-provoking. Each quote represents a book that is interesting, well written and has potential to enhance the reader’s life. We also accept submissions from our visitors and will select the quotes we feel are most appealing to the BookQuoters community.
Founded in 2023, BookQuoters has quickly become a large and vibrant community of people who share an affinity for books. Books are seen by some as a throwback to a previous world; conversely, gleaning the main ideas of a book via a quote or a quick summary is typical of the Information Age but is a habit disdained by some diehard readers. We feel that we have the best of both worlds at BookQuoters; we read books cover-to-cover but offer you some of the highlights. We hope you’ll join us.