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Quote by Stanislaw Lem

“For the very reason that here nothing served a purpose--not ever, not to anyone--and that here no guillotine of evolution was in play, amputating from every genotype whatever did not contribute to survival, nature, constrained neither by the life she bore nor by the death she inflicted, could achieve, liberation, displaying a prodigality characteristic of herself, a limitless wastefulness, a brute magnificence that was useless, an eternal power of creation without a goal, without a need, without a meaning.”

Quote by Stanislaw Lem

Book:Fiasco (El libro de bolsillo - Bibliotecas de autor - Biblioteca Lem)
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Fiasco (El libro de bolsillo - Bibliotecas de autor - Biblioteca Lem)

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Author

Stanislaw Lem
Stanislaw Lem

Stanislaw Lem was a Polish science fiction novelist, writer, and philosopher. His works are renowned for their profound philosophical insights and unique literary style, profoundly influencing science fiction literature. Lem's many novels, including 'Solaris', 'Soylent Green', and 'Fahrenheit 451', have won widespread readership and numerous literary awards, and have inspired many writers to come. more

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“And then, suddenly, when the sun is beginning to warm my face, I'm there. In the zone where everything is perfect, and I'm drawing. Fingers, hand and charcoal pencil, even thought, are one and what I am, what I see, or part of it, is skimming across the page, darker here, lighter on the left, a smudging—deliberate—and feathering with spit. While inside, the crimson glow is burning, that bubble I carry within me where I store everything that happens, good or bad, where I can think about it when I'm alone, at night or on the street, waiting for the chance for cash and an easy screw. As the glow burns, it travels through my limbs, blood and bone, and into my head where something explodes like an electric shock, so I’m shivering, retching even as my hand still moves over paper, tasting vomit in my mouth but refusing to let it go, swallowing down the bitterness. And still I draw, sweat sticky on my forehead and under my arms, but the only part of me touching what I’m doing is my hand with its instrument for line and block and shadow. Nothing can harm me now.”

ArtFeelingMagical RealismPathetic Fallacy
Book:A Dangerous Man
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