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We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality.

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
Clenched
Mortality
Muscles
Skin
Skins
Wind

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Sleep demands of us a guilty immunity.
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No one will be much or little except in someone else's mind, so be careful of the minds you get into.
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We are adhering to life now with our last muscle - the heart.
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No man needs curing of his individual sickness his universal malady is what he should look to.
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I'm a fart in a gale of wind, a humble violet under a cow pat.
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One must not look inward too much, while the inside is yet tender. I do not wish to frighten myself until I can stand it.
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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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And must I, perchance, like careful writers, guard myself against the conclusions of my readers?
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Certainty always produces questions, uncertainty statements. It is a balancing law of nature.
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For most people, life is nasty, brutish, and short for me, it has simply been nasty and brutish.
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I couldn't ever boil potatoes over the heat of your affection. Your love would never bridge a gap it wouldn't even fill up the hole that the mice came through.
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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?
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Life is painful, nasty and short.. in my case it has only been painful and nasty.
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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?
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When one wants to become cognizant of the color and the texture of the soil, one does not get a ladder one gets a shovel. When one wants to get into touch with the texture of the universal mind, one does not go to Boston one goes to the Bowery.
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New York is the meeting place of the peoples, the only city where you can hardly find a typical American.
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The heart of the jealous knows the best and most satisfying love, that of the other's bed, where the rival perfects the lover's imperfections.
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Man is the only thing that has no further use after something goes amiss.
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Love is the first lie wisdom the last.
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An image is a stop the mind makes between uncertainties.
Djuna Barnes