Djuna Barnes
Djuna Barnes
Djuna Barneswas an American writer and artist best known for her novel Nightwood, a cult classic of lesbian fiction and an important work of modernist literature...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth12 June 1892
CityStorm King Mountain, NY
CountryUnited States of America
night skins may
The night is a skin pulled over the head of day that the day may be in torment.
lying civilization trying
The whole world is nothing but a noise, as hot as the inside of a tiger's mouth. They call it civilization - that is a lie! But some day you may have to go out, someone will try to take you out, and you will not understand them or what they are saying, unless you understand nothing, absolutely nothing, then you will manage.
mind priceless misinformation
The priceless galaxy of misinformation called the mind.
men gnarly feet
This head has risen above its hair in a moment of abandon known only to men who have drawn their feet out of their boots to walk awhile in the corridors of the mind.
acceptance past age
In the acceptance of depravity the sense of the past is most truly captured. What is a ruin but time easing itself of endurance? Corruption is the Age of Time.
shattered surface whole
There is always more surface to a shattered object than a whole.
necks throat
After all, it is not where one washes one's neck that counts but where one moistens one's throat.
men pounds philosopher
You beat the liver out of a goose to get a pâté; you pound the muscles of a man's cardia to get a philosopher.
breakup lying love-is
None of us suffers as much as we should, or loves as much as we say. Love is the first lie; wisdom the last.
criticism betrayed
To love without criticism is to be betrayed.
honesty liars men
God,' she cried, 'what is love? Man seeking his own head? The human head, so rented by misery that even the teeth weigh! She couldn't tell me the truth because she had never planned it; her life was a continual accident, and how can you prepare for that? Everything we can't bear in the world, some day we find in one person, and love it all at once.... There's something evil in me that loves evil and degradation--purty's black backside! That loves honesty with a horrid love; or why have I always gone seeking it at the liar's door?
conclusion reader careful
And must I, perchance, like careful writers, guard myself against the conclusions of my readers?
running men sorrow
A man's sorrow runs uphill; true it is difficult for him to bear, but it is also difficult for him to keep.
feet contemplative-life effort
Even the contemplative life is only an effort, Nora my dear, to hide the body so the feet won’t stick out.