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Quote by Åsa Larsson

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Sun Storm

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Åsa Larsson

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“I relinquished myself to existence pure and simple, thinking absolutely nothing—as if my mind were merely an echo chamber for the music, as if it contained only ether or at most a vaguely pleasant odor as of roses preserved between the pages of a book, their significance long forgotten. The tongue of the road gobbled me up and I allowed myself to sink like a tasty mouthful all the way to the bottom of a marvelous, rejuvenating vacuity. Later, it would occur to me it’s the emptiness we mistakenly call Innocence.”

BookPastMusicYouthTravelMemoryInnocenceEmptinessNothingnessBeingForgettingRosesRoadVacuityBeing And NothingnessRoad Novel
Book:Beginner's Luke
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“. . .the sorrows of the heart yearn to be erased, for one final atonement finite and forgetting and whole—but time in its preserving will not permit forgetting; destroying only when we can no longer beg or argue with time to preserve the brief benisons a few moments longer than our sins”

TimeSorrowPreservationBlessingsForgettingAtonementRememberingRenunciationInevitabilitySinsPleading
Book:paulinskill hours and other poems
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“Too late for that now,” the Eldest Leprechaun said. “The damage is done. Give the thing a name, and it takes shape. They gave a name and a shape to the force that’s always hated us. It’s everything we’re not. It’s New Ireland, it’s money for money’s sake, brown paper envelopes stuffed full of bribes—the turn of mind that says that the old’s only good for theme parks, and the new is all there needs to be. It’s been getting stronger and stronger all this while.And now that it’s more important to the people living in the city than we are, it’s become physically real.”

TransformationGreedForgetting
Book:Emerald Magic: Great Tales of Irish Fantasy
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“Thank god for Vegas. Seriously. A lobotomy wasn’t as effective as a weekend three hours of Red Bull away (from LA, not Pismo) where I wore the thinnest pinned stilettos, gambled like a sweaty degenerate mobster in black loafers, drank like Amy Winehouse and Charles Bukowski’s baby, and snorted throat-dripping lines of coke in a Hard Rock Hotel bathroom with four new best friends. I’d giddily rub off any one of those from the to-do list I wrote in eyeliner on my hotel bathroom mirror.”

LoveDrinkingDrunkVegasForgettingUnrequitedHard RockPartyingBathroomsDont CareStilettos And Scars
Book:Unrequited - One Girl, Thirteen Boyfriends, and Vodka.
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