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Quote by Craig D. Lounsbrough

“A lot of people are all foliage and no fruit. And because they are, it might be a really beautiful orchard but we’re going to starve anyway.”

Quote by Craig D. Lounsbrough

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Craig D. Lounsbrough

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“People are all the same. We all think we are unique. That's what I like about ducks. They don't think about themselves. They think about things like: How can we save humans from killing themselves? Of course, they have the solution, but they just refuse to share it with us.”

PeopleSpecialUniqueDucksDuckDuck QuoteDuck Quotes
Book:Music is fluid, and my saxophone overflows when my ducks slosh in the sounds I make in elevators.
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“I would rather be bored alone than with someone else. I'm drawn to strange people. At a museum I look at people with the eyes of an artist, in the streets with my own. I can't remember the name of a person I have just met. In India, I travelled in a train compartment with a Swiss man I didn't know, we were crossing the plains of Kerala, I told him more about myself in several hours than I had told my best friends in several years, I knew I would never see him again, he was an ear without repercussions. Maybe I'm writing this book so I won't have to talk to anymore.”

PeopleIntrovertIntroversionSocialising
Book:Autoportrait
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“What to do with the lives around us, within us? How to classify them? They are and are not examined lives, monochrome canvases with blots, smudges, freckles scattered over a space made up of shackled time. Examined lives (canvases), crisscrossed with shallow empty spaces, dappled with little bumps—hillocks—and narrow furrows, cuttings, grooves, many alike, in which slow, stagnant waters swirl. Lives with rounded edges, easily catalogued, easily connected, easily nailed onto the shelves of memory. And forgotten there. Then, those others: lives crisscrossed, entangled, knotted wit veins, scars, clefts which continue to breathe under the gravestones over the little mounds of our being, scabbed-over wounds that still bleed within. Impenetrable lives. They flicker in the darkness, sending out little sparks of light, fluorescent, like the bones of corpses. Placed side by side, there is no current between them, because both these kinds of life collapse into themselves, silently and menacingly like rising waters. Kaleidoscopic lives. Like the drawings of schizoid patients.”

PeopleWarLossHistoryTraumaLivesVictims
Book:EEG
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