The murderer smiles palely in wine, Death's horror grips the sick. Excoriated and naked, the nun prays Before the Savior's agony on the cross. The mother sings quietly in sleep. Peacefully the child looks into the night With eyes that are completely truthful. In the whorehouse laughter rings. By candlelight down in the cellar hole The dead one paints with white hand A grinning silence on the wall. The sleeper whispers still.
Georg TraklRelated topics
agony child cross dead grinning hand hole horror laughter mother night sick silence sleep wall white wine whorehouse looks smiles eyesRelated quotes
I lay down and tried to sleep. When I closed my eyes I saw an Oriental face, the lips and nose eaten by disease. The disease spread, melting the face into an amoeboid mass in which the eyes floated, dull crustacean eyes. Slowly, a new face formed around the eyes. A series of faces, hieroglyphs, distorted and leading to the final place where the human road ends, where the human form can no longer contain the crustacean horror that has grown inside it.
William S. Burroughs
Are we surprised if a sick man cannot walk, or keep awake, or stand upright? Would it not be more surprising if he was the same man as when he was well? If we have a headache, or have slept badly, we are excused for telling incapable of work, and yet no one suspects us of always being lazy. Shall we deny a dying man the privilege we grant a man with a headache? And dare we assert that the man who lacks courage in his last agony never possessed virtue when he was well.
Luc de Clapiers, Marquis de Vauvenargues
Water does not resist. Water flows. When you plunge your hand into it, all you feel is a caress. Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient. Dripping water wears away a stone. Remember that, my child. Remember you are half water. If you can't go through an obstacle, go around it. Water does.
Margaret Atwood
It's like this - you are in front of your canvas, you hand holds the paint, ready, raised. The canvas waits, waits, empty and white - but all the time it knows what it wants. So - what does it want, anyway? My hand comes near, my eyes begin to transform the waiting canvas; and when - with my hands holding the paint and my eyes seeing the forms - I touch the canvas, it trembles, it comes to life.
Karel Appel
I have a message for anyone coming to the Ozzfest this summer (Summer, 2000): If you're planning to jump up onstage during my set, please do not give me any bear hugs, because they fucking hurt. Listen to me, I'm dead serious. On the first night of last year's tour, this enormous guy jumped up onstage and gave me a huge bear hug. He crushed 3 of my ribs and I had to do the whole tour in absolute agony. I couldn't believe it, the first fucking show!
Ozzy Osbourne
