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The night is a skin pulled over the head of day that the day may be in torment.

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
Pulled
Skin
Skins
Head
Night
May
Torment

More quotes by Djuna Barnes

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I talk too much because I have been made so miserable by what you are keeping hushed.
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Suffering for love is how I have learned practically everything I know, love of grandmother up and on.
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We are but skin about a wind, with muscles clenched against mortality.
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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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Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them.
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Certainty always produces questions, uncertainty statements. It is a balancing law of nature.
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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 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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Yes, we who are full to the gorge with misery should look well around, doubting everything seen, done, spoken, precisely because we have a word for it, and not its alchemy
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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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I have a narrative, but you will be put to it to find it.
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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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Youth is cause, effect is age so with the thickening of the neck we get data.
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The unendurable is the beginning of the curve of joy.
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And must I, perchance, like careful writers, guard myself against the conclusions of my readers?
Djuna Barnes
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One's life is peculiar to one's own when one has invented it.
Djuna Barnes
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New York rose out of the water like a great wave that found it impossible to return again and so remained there in horror, peering out of the million windows man had caged it with.
Djuna Barnes
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To love without criticism is to be betrayed.
Djuna Barnes
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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.
Djuna Barnes
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Only the impossible lasts forever.
Djuna Barnes