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For most people, life is nasty, brutish, and short for me, it has simply been nasty and brutish.

Djuna Barnes

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Djuna Barnes
Age: 90 †
Born: 1892
Born: June 12
Died: 1982
Died: June 18
Journalist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Writer
Cornwall on Hudson
New York
Lydia Steptoe
Nasty
Short
Simply
Life
People
Brutish

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The unendurable is the beginning of the curve of joy.
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The truth is how you say it, and to be 'one's self' is the most shocking custom of all.
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When autumn shadows throw their patterns across the land, they are not the images of fragile, dying leaves, not the bared arms of lofty elms, not shadows of a fading summer but swinging shapes as of books upon a strap, of round and square boxes held under an arm, of hurrying little people heading towards the nearest school.
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Una's face was an unbroken block of calculation, saving where, upon her upper lip, a little down of hair fluttered. Yet it gave one an uncanny feeling. It made one think of a tassel on a hammer.
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God, children know something they can't tell they like Red Riding Hood and the wolf in bed!
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The very condition of Woman is so subject to Hazard, so complex, and so grievous, that to place her at one moment is but to displace her at the next.
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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.
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An image is a stop the mind makes between uncertainties.
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Man is the only thing that has no further use after something goes amiss.
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A man's sorrow runs uphill true it is difficult for him to bear, but it is also difficult for him to keep.
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To love without criticism is to be betrayed.
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I've seen death and I didn't like it.
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We are beginning to wonder whether a servant girl hasn't the best of it after all. She knows how the salad tastes without the dressing, and she knows how life's lived before it gets to the parlor door.
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The night is a skin pulled over the head of day that the day may be in torment.
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We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality.
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I'm a fart in a gale of wind, a humble violet under a cow pat.
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Only the impossible lasts forever.
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Certainty always produces questions, uncertainty statements. It is a balancing law of nature.
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Time is a great conference planning our end, and youth is only the past putting a leg forward.
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The priceless galaxy of misinformation called the mind.
Djuna Barnes