405 Quotes by Jeff VanderMeer

  • Author Jeff VanderMeer
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    Progress’:a word to choke on, a word to discard and then pick up again, hurl it in the oven like coal, watch it spurl out its own name in black smoke from the chimney of the hunting lodge. I embrace it, and I repeat it, and yet I know no word I or any other human could use will ever be the right word.

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  • Author Jeff VanderMeer
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    I also liked the ocean, and I found staring at it had a calming effect. The air was so clean, so fresh, while the world back beyond the border was what it had always been during the modern era: dirty, tired, imperfect, winding down, at war with itself. Back there, I had always felt as if my work amounted to a futile attempt to save us from who we are.

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  • Author Jeff VanderMeer
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    What does the border look like?” A child’s question. A question whose answer means nothing. There is nothing but border. There is no border.

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  • Author Jeff VanderMeer
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    All of the things that wore you down, even as that was balanced by the electric feeling of being on the side of a border where you knew things no one else knew.

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  • Author Jeff VanderMeer
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    What’s outside the border when you’re inside it?” “What’s the border when you’re inside it?” “What’s the border when someone is outside it?” “Why can’t the person inside see the person outside?

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  • Author Jeff VanderMeer
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    Perhaps [he had] persevered for too long, in the face of too many obstacles, his hair proof of his tenacity - the stark black streaked with white or, in certain light, stark white shot through with black, each strand of white attributable to the jungle fever (so cold it burned, his skin glacial), each strand of black a testament to being alive afterwards.

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  • Author Jeff VanderMeer
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    Be', dipende dai soffitti alti, no? Vedi cose che non esistono. E le cose che vedi sembrano altre cose. Un uccello può essere un pipistrello. Un pipistrello può essere una busta di plastica che vola. Così va il mondo. Vedi una cosa per un'altra. Uccelli-foglie. Pipistrelli-uccelli. Ombre fatte di luci. Rumori accidentali che sembrano più significativi. È sempre così, dovunque vai.

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