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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.
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
Whether
Servant
Girl
Door
Lived
Parlor
Best
Beginning
Dressings
Without
Taste
Salad
Life
Doors
Dressing
Gets
Tastes
Wonder
Hasn
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Of course I think of the past and of Paris, what else is there to remember?
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We are adhering to life now with our last muscle - the heart.
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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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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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After all, it is not where one washes one's neck that counts but where one moistens one's throat.
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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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And must I, perchance, like careful writers, guard myself against the conclusions of my readers?
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I've seen death and I didn't like it.
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I'm a fart in a gale of wind, a humble violet under a cow pat.
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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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The priceless galaxy of misinformation called the mind.
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Man is the only thing that has no further use after something goes amiss.
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To think is to be sick.
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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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