Like every living city...
Ennui supports a menagerie of vermin and scavengers.
The rats which colonized its subterranean railroad.
The cats which colonized its slanty rooftops.
The anguillettes which colonized its shallow drainage canals.
All artists sell all their work. It's what makes you an artist. Selling it.If you don't wish to sell it, don't paint it. Question is, what's your price?
- I'm gonna need art supplies. Canvas, stretchers, brushes, turpentine.
- What do you want to paint?
- The future. Which is you.
We have to accept it.His need to fail is more powerful...than our strongest desires to help him succeed. I give up. He's defeated us.
You see, people may or may not be mildly threatened...by your anger, your hatred, your pride...but love the wrong way...and you will find yourself in great jeopardy.
Well, I've been here 3,647 days and nights. Another 14,603 to go. I drink 14 pints of mouthwash rations per week. At that rate...I think I'm going to poison myself to death...before I ever get to see the world again, which makes me feel...very sad. I gotta change my program. I gotta go in a new direction. Anything I can do to keep my hands busy, I'm gonna do. Otherwise...I think maybe it's gonna be a suicide. And that's why I signed up for clay pottery and basket weaving.
I like how ruthless you are. It's part of your beauty, I think.
Does it occur to you... he's very probably somewhere marching in the middle of the night right now...carrying a 50-pound sack of gunpowder and peeling stale potatoes...while he digs a latrine trench in the rain with a tin cup?
That 48-year period of my life, I mean. That's what I won't do. I can no longer envision myself as a grown-up man in our parents' world.
- She should maintain journalistic neutrality.
- No such thing.Doesn't exist. Journalistic neutrality is a discredited concept.
Stop bickering. Go make love.
An invincible comet speeds on its guided arc...toward the outer reaches of the galaxy in cosmic space-time. What was our cause?
The drink, a milky, purplish aperitif...ferociously fragrant, overtly medicinal, ever so faintly anesthetizing...and cooled to a glacial viscosity in a miniature version...of the type of vacuum-flask normally associated with campsites and schoolrooms...cast a spell...which, during the subsequent 60-second interval...was to be mortally broken.
There is a particular sad beauty...well-known to the companionless foreigner as he walks the streets of his adopted...preferably moonlit, city. In my case, Ennui, France.I have so often...I have so often shared the day's glittering discoveries with...no one at all. But always, somewhere along the avenue or the boulevard...there was a table set for me. A cook, a waiter, a bottle, a glass, a fire. I chose this life. It is the solitary feast that has been very much like a comrade...my great comfort and fortification.
