Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Carl Phillips

Quote by Carl Phillips

Author

Carl Phillips
Carl Phillips

Carl Phillips, born on July 23, 1959, is an American writer known primarily for his poetry, which also includes novels and essays. His poetry style is distinctive, often exploring personal emotions and the relationship between history and memory. more

You May Also Like

“Consuelo's appearance set her apart from the others, and the nuns, sure that this was not accidental but a sign of benevolent divine will, spared no effort in cultivating her faith, in the hope she would decide to take her vows and serve the Church; al their efforts, however, came to naught before the girl's instinctive rejection. She made the attempt in good faith, but never succeeded in accepting the tyrannical god the nuns preached to her about; she preferred a more joyful, maternal, and compassionated god. "That is the Most Holy Virgin Mary," the nuns explained to her. "She is God?" "No, she is the Mother of God." "Yes, but who has the say in heaven, God or his Mama?”

FeminismTheologyMariology
Book:Eva Luna
Create image

“Driving down deserted early morning roads. Round and round. Round downtown. Through naked streets. Lips pursed on two litre bottles of beer, but pursuing the lips of freedom's night. Swapping cars. Winding up at karaoke bars or Bolsi- the best place in town. For the food. For the folk. For the service. For the crema de papaya. And for that late night dawn's whiskey coffee.”

PartyTravelAlcoholBeerProsePoeticTravel WritingTravelingTravellingKaraokeBeatPartiesBeatnikParaguay1111Backpacker1111 Phenomenon11 11 PhenomenonCervezaAsuncion
Book:Route Number 11: Argentina, Angels & Alcohol
Create image

“Lo primero que percibí fue el olor a carroña... No me sentía del todo muerto, pero hubiera deseado estarlo como los demás. Llevé con gran esfuerzo la mano sobre el pecho. Percibí los latidos de la sangre que se esparcía por el cuerpo como arena. El corazón de un muerto no late, pensé en el vértigo ondeante de la pesadilla. Esa arena de sangre seca corriendo por mis venas formaba parte de esa pesadilla que ya no iba a cesar. No era cadáver aún, pero llevaba la muerte en el pecho. Un enorme y ácido tumor me llenaba todo el cuerpo. Ocupaba mi lugar.”

MuerteParaguayMuerte VidaResilenciaAugusto Roa BastosSobreviviente
Book:Contravida
Create image