Quote

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.

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
Sight
Slept
Many
Deer
Like
Dreams
Mechanical
Doors
Metal
Silence
Metals
Ached
Loved
Closed
Caresses
Times
Slowly
Caress
Woman
Door
Forgetfulness
Dream

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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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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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For fear you will be alone you do so many things that aren't you at all.
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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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A friend came over to the house a few days ago and read one of my poems. He came back today and asked to read the same poem over again. After he finished reading it, he said, It makes me want to write poetry.
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God-forsaken is beautiful, too.
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There are not too many fables about man's misuse of sunflower seeds.
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I'll think about things for thirty or forty years before I'll write it.
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One day Time will die And love will bury it
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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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Her sunny side was always up.
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We walked back to iDEATH, holding hands. Hands are very nice things, especially after they have travelled back from making love.
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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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The 1960s: A lot of people remember hating President Lyndon Baines Johnson and loving Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison, depending on the point of view. God rest their souls.
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Reduce intellectual and emotional noise until you arrive at the silence of yourself and listen to 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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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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Boo, Forever Spinning like a ghost on the bottom of a top, I'm haunted by all the space that I will live without you.
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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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