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
thinking past paris
Of course I think of the past and of Paris, what else is there to remember?
past legs planning
Time is a great conference planning our end, and youth is only the past putting a leg forward.
life-is you-like-it loud
Life is not to be told, call it as loud as you like, it will not tell itself.
littles bohemian wells
Well, isn't Bohemia a place where everyone is as good as everyone else - and must not a waiter be a little less than a waiter to be a good Bohemian?
humble wind cows
I'm a fart in a gale of wind, a humble violet under a cow pat.
eye giving criticism
I am not a critic; to me criticism is so often nothing more than the eye garrulously denouncing the shape of the peephole that gives access to hidden treasure.
class different bags
If Helen of Troy could have been seen eating peppermints out of a paper bag, it is highly probable that her admirers would have been an entirely different class.It is the thing you are found doing while the horde looks on that you shall be loved for - or ignored.
grandmother love-is suffering
Suffering for love is how I have learned practically everything I know, love of grandmother up and on.
doubt sides docile
The Seal, she lounges like a bride,Much too docile, there's no doubt;Madame Récamier, on side,(if such she has), and bottom out.
shattered surface whole
There is always more surface to a shattered object than a whole.
mind uncertainty
An image is a stop the mind makes between uncertainties.
honesty liars doors
There's something evil in me that loves evil and degradation--purity's black backside! That loves honesty with a horrid love; or why have I always gone seeking it at the liar's door?
thinking light answers
Matthew,' she said, 'have you ever loved someone and it became yourself?' For a moment he did not answer. Taking up the decanter he held it to the light. 'Robin can go anywhere, do anything,' Nora continued, 'because she forgets, and I nowhere because I remember.' She came toward him. 'Matthew,' she said, 'you think I have always been like this. Once I was remorseless, but this is another love — it goes everywhere; there is no place for it to stop — it rots me away.
children riding red
God, children know something they can't tell; they like Red Riding Hood and the wolf in bed!