Don DeLillo

I am the false character that follows the name around.

I was living, in short, on the edge of a landscape of vast shame.

I feel sad for people and the queer part we play in our own disasters.

When TV didn't fill them with rage, it scared them half to death.

In the dark the mind runs on like a devouring machine, the only thing awake in the universe.

Maybe there is no death as we know it. Just documents changing hands.

Why do these possessions carry such sorrowful weight? There is a darkness attached to them, a foreboding. They make me wary not of personal failure and defeat but of something more general, something large in scope and content.

She said I made virtues of her flaws because it was my nature to shelter loved ones from the truth.

men smoking in the dimness, waiting for the homosexuals to make their way down from the bars above Canal Street

Alles nach Gottes Willen