Here then at long last is my darkness. No cry of light, no glimmer, not even the faintest shard of hope to break free across the hold.
Mark Z. DanielewskiTags: insightful darkness horror house-of-leaves
Her smile, I'm sure, burnt Rome to the ground.
Mark Z. DanielewskiTags: smile rome house-of-leaves
Knowledge is hot water on wool. It shrinks time and space.
Mark Z. DanielewskiTags: house-of-leaves
When a pebble falls down a well, it is gratifying to hear the eventual plunk. If, however, the pebble only slips into darkness and vanishes without a sound, the effect is disquieting. In the case of a verbal echo, spoken word acts as the pebble and the subsequent repetition serves as “the plunk.” In this way, speaking can result in a form of “seeing"...
Mark Z. DanielewskiTags: house-of-leaves
What is boredom? Endless repetitions, like, for example, Navidson’s corridors and rooms, which are consistently devoid of any Myst-like discoveries thus causing us to lose interest. What then makes anything exciting? Or better yet: what is exciting? While the degree varies, we are always excited by anything that engages us, influences us or more simply involves us. In those endlessly repetitive hallways and stairs, there is nothing for us to connect with. That permanently foreign place does not excite us. It bores us. And that is that, except for the fact that there is no such thing as boredom. Boredom is really a psychic defense protecting us from ourselves, from complete paralysis, by repressing, among other things, the meaning of that place, which in this case is and always has been horror.
Mark Z. DanielewskiTags: boredom house-of-leaves
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