Bough Down. Karen L. Green. Sigilo Press, 2013.
“Books are finite, sexual encounters are finite, but the desire to read and to fuck is infinite; it surpasses our own deaths, our fears, our hopes for peace.” ― Roberto Bolaño
Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta David Foster Wallace. Mostrar todas as mensagens
Mostrar mensagens com a etiqueta David Foster Wallace. Mostrar todas as mensagens
sábado, 4 de março de 2017
quarta-feira, 22 de abril de 2015
terça-feira, 26 de junho de 2012
A Radically Condensed History of Postindustrial Life - David Foster Wallace
When they were introduced, he made a witticism, hoping to be liked. She laughed extremely hard, hoping to be liked. Then each drove home alone, staring straight ahead, with the very same twist to their faces.
The man who'd introduced them didn't much like either of them, though he acted as if he did, anxious as he was to preserve good relations at all times. One never knew, after all, now did one now did one now did one.
David Foster Wallace, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men, Abacus, 2001
terça-feira, 1 de novembro de 2011
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