. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . where ImagInatIon comes to play

Thursday, November 11, 2010

If you persist in
throttling your impulses
you end by becoming a
clot of phlegm. You finally
spit out a gob which completely
drains you and which you only
realize years later was not a gob
of spit but your inmost self.
If you lose that you will
always race through
dark streets like
a mad man
pursued
by phantoms.
You will be able
to say with perfect
sincerity:
"I don't know what I want in life."

HENRY MILLER
Sexus

3 comments:

Anthony Duce said...

Some very well placed words. I'm thinking of all the globs I've just spit away...

Marjolaine Hébert said...

Ha! Yes, it's had me thinking about mine as well, Anthony. Hmm..

100% said...

妳好呀!幫妳簽簽了!