The world is a cancer eating itself away... I am think that when the great silence descends upon all and everywhere music will at last triumph. When into the womb of time everything is again withdrawn chaos will be restored and chaos is the score upon which reality is written.

Henry Miller

Mots clés reality music time silence chaos henry-miller cancer reality-of-life tropic-of-cancer

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For the moment I can think of nothing— except that I am a sentient being stabbed by the miracle of these waters that reflect a forgotten world.

Henry Miller

Mots clés water forgotten henry-miller beautiful-writing tropic-of-cancer sentient-beings relfection sentient-being

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This was the sort of ebullience and élan I prayed for when I felt the desire to write. I used to sit down and wait for this to happen. But it never did happen- not this way. It happened afterwards, sometimes when I had left the machine and gone for a walk. Yes, suddenly it would come on, like an attack, pell-mell, from every direction, a veritable inundation, an avalanche- and there I was, helpless, miles away from the typewriter, not a piece of paper in my pocket.

Henry Miller

Mots clés truth writing creativity henry-miller sexus

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