Quote

Perhaps I have not lined his portrait too clearly. But if he exists, if only for the reason that I have imagined him to be. He came from the blue and returns to the blue. He has not perished, he is not lost. Neither will he be forgotten.

Henry Miller

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Henry Miller
Age: 88 †
Born: 1891
Born: December 26
Died: 1980
Died: June 7
Essayist
Novelist
Painter
Writer
New York City
New York
Genri Miller
Henri Miller
Phineas Flapdoodle
Came
Clearly
Lost
Exists
Reason
Forgotten
Perished
Neither
Lined
Blue
Portrait
Quiet
Returns
Return
Portraits
Perhaps
Imagined

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Life is 440 horsepower in a 2-cylinder engine.
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Man, as man, has never realized himself. The greater part of him, his potential being, has always been submerged. What is history if not the endless story of his repeated failures?
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I had to learn, as I soon did, that one must give up everything and not do anything else but write, that one must writer and write and write, even if everybody in the world advises you against it, even if nobody believes in you.
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What seems nasty, painful, evil can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind.
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Next to love friendship, in my opinion, is the most valuable thing life has to offer.
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Serenity is when you get above all this, when it doesn't matter what they think, say or want, but when you do as you are, and see God and Devil as one.
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There's nothing wrong with the world. What's wrong is our way of looking at it.
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We don't trust our five senses we rely on our critics and educators, all of whom are failures in the realm of creation.
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Understanding is not a piercing of the mystery, but an acceptance of it, a living blissfully with it, in it, through and by it.
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I am living at the Villa Borghese. There is not a crumb of dirt anywhere, nor a chair misplaced. We are all alone here and we are dead.
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To be cured, we must rise from our graves and throw off the cerements of the dead. Nobody can do it for another - it is a private affair which is best done collectively. We must die as egos and be born again in the swarm, not separated and self-hypnotized, but individual and related.
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We should not stop to reflect, compare, analyze, possess, but flow on and through, endlessly, like music.
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I believe that today more than ever a book should be sought after even if it has only one great page in it. We must search for fragments, splinters, toenails, anything that has ore in it, anything that is capable of resuscitating the body and the soul.
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The only difference between the Adamic man and the man of today is that the one was born to Paradise and the other has to create it.
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Your whole past is like a long sleep which would have been forgotten had there been no memory, but remembrance is there in the blood and the blood is like an ocean in which everything is washed away but that which is new and more substantial even than life - reality.
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The learning we received only tended to obscure our vision. From the day we went to school we learned nothing on the contrary, we were made obtuse, we were wrapped in a fog of words and abstractions.
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If you are well off and can afford to spend ten or twenty-five dollars a day to hire some patient soul to listen to your troubles you can be readjusted to the crazy scheme of things and spare yourself the humiliation of becoming a Christian Scientist. You can have your ego trimmed or removed, as you wish, just like a wart or bunion.
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At the bottom of every frozen heart there is a drop or two of love―just enough to feed the birds.
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If you can fall in love again and again if you can forgive as well as forget, if you can keep from growing sour, surly, bitter and cynical you've got it half licked.
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Of course you don't die. Nobody dies. Death doesn't exist. You only reach a new level of vision, a new realm of consciousness, a new unknown world.
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