Fear is unnatural. Lightning and thunder are unnatural. Pain, death, reality, these are all unnatural. We can't bear these things as they are. We know too much. So we resort to repression, compromise and disguise. This is how we survive the universe. This is the natural language of the species.
Don DeLillo, White Noise
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How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?
Don DeLillo
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"Sometimes the call of a bird is so clear
it bruises my hands."
Joanna Klink, from The Graves
"When birds look into houses, what impossible worlds they see."
Don DeLillo, The Body Artist
"A bird is a vessel. It carries a field."
Emily Skaja, from It's Impossible to Keep White Moths
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How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?
Don DeLillo
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It’s not what I want, it’s what I need. My life is no longer in the realm of want. I do what I have to do.
Don DeLillo, White Noise
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It was important for him to believe that he’d spent his life among people who kept missing the point.
Don DeLillo
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It was important for him to believe that he’d spent his life among people who kept missing the point.
Don DeLillo, White Noise
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cosmopolis, don delillo
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Consumer societies are unequipped to make sense of death. As Weber pointed out, premodern humans could imagine themselves as part of an “organic life cycle” of which death was the natural end; this belief was sanctified by religion and ritual. Modern life, on the other hand, unfolds as a “never-ending process,” and the disenchantment of the world has eliminated the forms of religion that used to give us solace; we can only see death as a “meaningless event.”
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The truth of the world is exhausting.
Don DeLillo, Libra
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How strange it is. We have these deep terrible lingering fears about ourselves and the people we love. Yet we walk around, talk to people, eat and drink. We manage to function. The feelings are deep and real. Shouldn’t they paralyze us? How is it we can survive them, at least for a little while? We drive a car, we teach a class. How is it no one sees how deeply afraid we were, last night, this morning? Is it something we all hide from each other, by mutual consent? Or do we share the same secret without knowing it? Wear the same disguise?
Don DeLillo
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Tonight I'm a listener. So, cover me with words.
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It was important for him to believe that he’d spent his life among people who kept missing the point.
Don DeLillo, White Noise
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