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I had a good-talking candle last night in my bedroom. I was very tired but I wanted somebody to be with me, so I lit a candle and listened to its comfortable voice of light until I was asleep.

Richard Brautigan

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Richard Brautigan
Age: 49 †
Born: 1935
Born: January 30
Died: 1984
Died: October 25
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Tacoma
Washington
Richard Gary Brautigan
Voice
Bedroom
Night
Candle
Light
Tired
Wanted
Comfortable
Good
Somebody
Talking
Lit
Lasts
Listened
Last
Asleep

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...what makes you older is when your bones, muscles and blood wear out, when the heart sinks into oblivion and all the houses you ever lived in are gone and people are not really certain that your civilization ever existed.
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If you get hung up on everybody else's hang-ups, then the whole world's going to be nothing more than one huge gallows.
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Karma Repair Kit Items 1-4. 1.Get enough food to eat, and eat it. 2.Find a place to sleep where it is quiet, and sleep there. 3.Reduce intellectual and emotional noise until you arrive at the silence of yourself, and listen to it. 4.
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The smallest snowstorm on record took place an hour ago in my back yard. It was approximately two flakes. I waited for more to fall, but that was it. The entire storm was two flakes.
Richard Brautigan
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God-forsaken is beautiful, too.
Richard Brautigan
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I don't know these people and they aren't my flowers.
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One day Time will die And love will bury it
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I’ll affect you slowly as if you were having a picnic in a dream. There will be no ants. It won’t rain.
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I'll think about things for thirty or forty years before I'll write it.
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If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer. That is my name.
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I daydream about a high school where everybody plays the harmonica: the students, the teachers, the principal, the janitor and the cook in the cafeteria.
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Burn all the maps to your body. I'm not here of my own choosing.
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In a Cafe I watched a man in a cafe fold a slice of bread as if he were folding a birth certificate or looking at the photograph of a dead lover.
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Love Poem ـــــــــ It's so nice to wake up in the morning all alone and not have to tell somebody you love them when you don't love them any more.
Richard Brautigan
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He learned about life at sixteen, first from Dostoevsky and then from the whores of New Orleans.
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Elizabeth's voice had a door in it. When you opened that door you found another door, and that door opened yet another door. All the doors were nice and led out of her.
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You've got some 'Star-Spangled' nails in your coffin, kid. That's what they've done for you, son.
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We could see the children's toys here and there, and we saw a game that the children had made themselves out of dirt, deer antlers and abalone shells, but the game was so strange that only children could tell what it was. Perhaps it wasn't a game at all, only the grave of a game.
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Hinged to forgetfulness like a door, she slowly closed out of sight, and she was the woman I loved, but too many times she slept like a mechanical deer in my caresses, and I ached in the metal silence of her dreams.
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Once upon a time there was a dwarf knight who only had fifty words to live in and they were so fleeting that he only had time to put on a suit of armor and ride swiftly on a black horse into a very well-lit woods where he vanished forever.
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