Do you remember how old Ford was always writing how Conrad suffered so when he wrote? How it was un metier de chien etc. Do you su...ffer when you write? I don't at all. Suffer like a bastard when don't write, or just before, and feel empty and fucked out afterwards. But never feel as good as while writing.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
"In short, Isabella, since I cannot give you my son, I offer you myself." -- "Heavens!" cried Isabella ... "what do I hear! You, m...y lord! You! my father in law! the father of Conrad! the husband of the virtuous and tender Hippolita!" -- "I tell you," said Manfred imperiously, "Hippolita is no longer my wife; I divorce her from this hour."LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
One swiftly forgets his intolerable writing, his mirthless, sedulous, repellent manner, in the face of the Athenian tragedy he ins...tills into his seduced and soul-sick servant girls, his barbaric pirates of finances, his conquered and hamstrung supermen, his wives who sit and wait. He has, like Conrad, a sure talent for depicting the spirit in disintegration.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
His moving impulse is no flabby yearning to teach, to expound, to make simple; it is that "obscure inner necessity" of which Conra...d tells us, the irresistible creative passion of a genuine artist, standing spell-bound before the impenetrable enigma that is life, enamoured by the strange beauty that plays over its sordidness, challenged to a wondering and half-terrified sort of representation of what passes understanding.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Time in the heart and sequence in the brain-- ... Such as destroyed Rimbaud and fooled Verlaine. And let us then take godhead by the neck-- And strangle it, and with it, rhetoric.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Rimbaud and Verlaine, precious pair of poets, Genius in both (but what is genius?) playing... Chess on a marble table at an innLESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
This is the shape of the tree, And the flower and the leaf, and the three pale beautiful pilgrims:... This is what you are to me.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
It is morning, Senlin says, and in the morning When the light drips through the shutters like the dew,... I arise, I face the sunrise, And do the things my fathers learned to do.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »