Interrupted again! if it's not Jules it's the cat! that's the female speciality: interruptions!
Louis-Ferdinand CélineTags: women interruptions
Of course the people in the metro didn't see a thing!...what a joke! petrified ratlets! but they'll still come out to refute me! make claims!...that nothing got bombed!...squished! powdered! that the firmament was calm, and me, I imagined the whole thing! chrysanthemums, sprays, roses! why, there's no more any such thing as sky-hooking shrapnel than there is anal ice cream! it's all in my mind! hallucinations and bullshit! what a crook! but I repeat and reassert! shrapnel and fiery lace stretched from one end of the horizon to the other! with lots of glow-worms mixed in...and dancing purple fireflies...
Louis-Ferdinand CélineTags: wwii world-war-ii paris bombing
Whether you're making love to the ladies or postulating the infinite, you'll still get all flabby one day!
Louis-Ferdinand CélineTags: flabby
...apparently "London" gave out my address! that's what they're saying...not just London, though! Brazzaville, too!...and said that I'm a dirty pornographer...a letch besides being the most despicable traitor of the century!...I'd make a urinal blush! that what we need is to cleanse France and the French language of this smut-writing, demoralizing, grammaclast who's sullying our sacred homeland and its literary heritage!
Louis-Ferdinand CélineTags: literature traitor smut
Pliny paid for his "phenomena"!...I've paid a bit, too...everything worthwhile has its cost!...if it's free, you're down with the shithead fraternity! blabbermouths, charlatans, the whole gang!...into the crapper with 'em! every one! right in the shitter!...it's unlistenable!...just a bunch of farts!...I'm telling you!...
Louis-Ferdinand CélineTags: shitheads
Always avoid taking care of your health, believe me! ... Every question asked of your body becomes a breach ... through which anxiety, obsession, will enter ...
Louis-Ferdinand Céline- Bardamu, qu'il me fait alors gravement et un peu triste, nos pères nous valaient bien, n'en dis pas de mal !...
- T'as raison, Arthur, pour ça t'as raison ! Haineux et dociles, violés, volés, étripés et couillons toujours, ils nous valaient bien ! Tu peux le dire ! Nous ne changeons pas ! Ni de chaussettes, ni de maîtres, ni d'opinions, ou bien si tard, que ça n'en vaut plus la peine. On est nés fidèles, on en crève nous autres ! Soldats gratuits, héros pour tout le monde et singes parlants, mots qui souffrent, on est nous les mignons du Roi Misère. C'est lui qui nous possède ! Quand on est pas sage, il serre... On a ses doigts autour du cou, toujours, ça gêne pour parler, faut faire bien attention si on tient à pouvoir manger... Pour des riens, il vous étrangle... C'est pas une vie...
- Il y a l'amour, Bardamu !
- Arthur, l'amour c'est l'infini mis à la portée des caniches et j'ai ma dignité moi ! que je lui réponds.
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