Quotes from Mark Z. Danielewski

I've got to stop blinking in the face of my fear. I must hear what I scream. I must remember what I dream.

Ashamed before. Ashamed now.

I lost sight of those dreams.

Lude would never feel how 'empty hallways long past midnight' could slice inside of you, though I'm not so sure he wasn't sliced up just the same. Not seeing the rip doesn't mean you automatically get to keep clear of the Hey-I'm-Bleeding part.

Il mio oblio è Hailey. Per un istante. E per sempre. Al di là del tempo. Perché ora siamo fuori dal tempo. Siamo contemporaneamente.

I couldn't feel anything either, shock alone possessing me, depriving me of any emotional meaning.

Find your own words; I have no more; or plenty more but why? and all to tell—what?

Mi tuffo, tengo i palmi moooolto larghi, rovesciando il Mondo e sollevando il cielo, unendo insieme stratocumuli & terreno.

Sono io la corrente. E corrente alternata. Controcorrente e scatenata. Ma ammiro anche Sam, e mi sono lanciata, anche se è timido si alza appena esco dalle placide onde per prendergli la mano e anche lui, in questo pantano, sotto il cielo rosso tiziano.

What we see, how we see and what in turn we can't see. Over and over again, in one form or another, he returns to the subject of light, space, shape, line, color, focus, tone, contrast, movement, rhythm, perspective and composition.

La Vita è la morte che all'Amore resta quando l'Amore alla fine s'arresta.

Slowly but surely, I grew more and more disoriented, increasingly more detached from the world, something sad and awful straining around the edges of my mouth, surfacing in my eyes. I stopped going out at night. I stopped going out. Nothing could distract me. I felt like I was losing control. Something terrible was going to happen. Eventually something terrible did happen.

All those signs I just now finished telling you about quickly vanished in the light of subsequent days or had never been there to begin with, existing only in retrospect.

dozens of hours just blinking by, lost in the twist of so many dangerous sentences.

You know sometimes you go into something thinking you're going to make all the difference. You're going to save the situation. Make it right. But that was too much for me.

In order to escape then, we have to remember we cannot ponder all paths but must decode only those necessary to get out.

I stopped going out. Nothing could distract me. I felt like I was losing control. Something terrible was going to happen. Eventually something terrible did happen.

Rumor was—or so Lude confided; I've always loved the way Lude could 'confide' a rumor—

Of course during all this, the children are once again abandoned, left to look after each other, with no one around to help translate the horror of the afternoon.

Unfortunately, humans lack the sophisticated neural hardware present in bats and whales. The blind must rely on the feeble light of fingertips and the painful shape of a cracked shin. Echolocation comes down to the crude assessment of simple sound modulations, whether in the dull reply of a tapping cane or the low, eerie flutter in one simple word--perhaps your word--flung down empty hallways long past midnight.

wondering then if I would ever see her again, sensing I wouldn't, hoping senses were wrong but still not knowing.

rocking back and forth between wishful thinking and some private agony until the bar breaks.

No doubt speculation will continue for a long time over what force alters and orders the dimensions of that place.

Whenever I felt particularly bad I'd instantly cling to a favorite daydream, one I was willing to revisit constantly, a pretty vivid one too . . .