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Quote by Jorge Luis Borges

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Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

This volume compiles a selection of short stories and other writings that delve into the intricacies of human life and the complexities of the human psyche. The author's distinctive narrative voice and thought-provoking themes are evident throughout the collection. more

Author

Jorge Luis Borges
Jorge Luis Borges

Jorge Luis Borges was an Argentine writer, poet, and literary critic. His works are known for their unique fantasy and philosophical thinking, which have had a profound impact on 20th-century literature. more

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“I had a mind to make a body of more or less connected legend, ranging from the large and cosmogonic, to the level of romantic fairy-story - the larger founded on the lesser in contact with the earth, the lesser drawing splendour from the vast backcloths - which I could dedicate simply to: to England; to my country. ... I would draw some of the great tales in fullness, and leave many only placed in the scheme, and sketched. The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands, wielding paint and music and drama.”

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“There is no articulate resonance. The common problem, I suppose, is to have more to say than vocabulary and syntax can bear. That is why I am hunting in these desiccated streets. The smoke hides the sky's variety, stains consciousness, covers the holocaust with something safe and insubstantial. It protects from greater flame. It indicates fire, but obscures the source. This is not a useful city. Very little here approaches any eidolon of the beautiful.”

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“The circus tent was flowing pale in the rain like a fleshy flower lit from within. It seemed to bloom in the downpour. Drops of rain caught on Rafe's eyelashes, blinding him as the circus light struck them. He groped for the flap, that slit in the fabric that would reveal her to him. She was on the rope again, her skirt flashing with tiny mirrors, hair braided with petals. He looked up at her, dizzy with it, seeing her face framed in the parasol. There were bluish shadows around her eyes.”

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Author:Francesca Lia Block
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