“George didn't say a word. He felt quite trembly. He knew something tremendous had taken place that morning. For a few brief moments he had touched with the very tips of his fingers the edge of a magic world.”
“As George removed the cork and began very slowly to pour the thick brown stuff into the spoon,”
“He found himself grinning at her. His nervousness had disappeared, and suddenly he had a sense of his own size, his physical strength, his own brains and being. Four years, he had earned his own bread and keep, fended for himself, had not only remained alive and well but had put together a small fishing fleet of his own, and kept it alive and functioning and fought the wind and the weather and met a payroll of eleven men in his crews-and be damned with the lot of them if he'd go into a funk over which spoon or knife to use.”
“Nunca la conoceré del todo”, pensó, como en una repentina y dolorosa revelación.
Estaba ahí, al alcance de su mano y de su boca. En cierto modo estaba sin defensa ¡pero qué lejana, qué inaccesible que estaba! Intuía que grandes abismos la separaban (no solamente el abismo del sueño sino otros) y que para llegar hasta el centro de ella habría que marchar durante jornadas temibles, al borde de vol
canes en erupción, entre llamaradas y tinieblas. “Nunca”, pensó, “nunca”.
”Pero me necesita, me ha elegido”, pensó también. De alguna manera lo había buscado y elegido a él, para algo que no alcanzaba comprender. Y le había contado cosas que estaba seguro jamás había contado a nadie, y presentía que le contaría muchas otras, todavía más terribles y hermosas que las que ya le había confesado. Pero también intuía que había otras que nunca, pero nunca le sería dado conocer. Y esas sombras misteriosas e inquietantes ¿no serían las más verdaderas de su alma, las únicas de verdadera importancia?”
“Depression is the evangelist for emptiness.”
“All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist.”
“Virgina Woolf versus Edward Lear."
"Christ Alive," said Billy. "Are those my only choices?"
"I went for Lear," said Leon. "Partly out of fidelity to the letter L. Partly because given the choice between nonsense and boojy wittering you blatantly have to choose nonsense.”
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