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Quote by William S. Burroughs

“Whereupon he did loose upon my innocent head a blast of blasphemies like burning lions or unsuccessful horse abortionists cooked in slow Lux to prevent the shrinkage of their worm.”

Quote by William S. Burroughs

Book:Interzone
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Interzone

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William S. Burroughs
William S. Burroughs

William S. Burroughs was an American novelist known for his unique writing style and his significant influence on postmodern literature. His works often involve social criticism, political satire, and surrealistic elements. more

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“Lux. I bolted up and then didn't dare move. It didn't seem possible that he was here; the prince I had dreamt about, actually real. The husband I had betrayed, actually rescued. The ghostly prisoner, actually whole. Yet here he lay, half-curled on his side, his chest moving softly with each breath. I felt like he would vanish if I moved. So I sat still and stared at him. He had the same slender, lovely face that I remembered seeing on both men. His skin was shockingly pale, but it was a human pallor, not the ghostly milk-white of Shade. His hair was black, but lanky and tangled as I had never seen Ignifex's. The line of his jaw was exactly the same as I remembered kissing. But I had never kissed him, not in this life. And he was not exactly the same man. Since I had remembered him last night, I hadn't had time to think of anything except what I had done and the terrible need to set it right. I hadn't even wondered what he would be like reunited. Now I could think of nothing else. I had loved Ignifex, and after a fashion, I had loved Shade. They had both more or less loved me in return. But Marcus Valerius Lux? What were we to each other? His eyes flickered open and focused on me. They were bright blue eyes, the pupils round and completely human, but they were not exactly Shade's eyes; the way he squinted against the light, his whole face wrinkling into the expression, was exactly like Ignifex.”

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“This is real," he whispered, sitting up. "Yes," I said. "You're real. I thought-- I started to think--" He was shaking now. Shame burned through my body, but I pulled him into my arms, and still holding on we rolled back down to lie on the grass. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so sorry." For an answer, he only buried his face in the crook of my neck, and we lay still together for a long time, until at last he whispered in my ear, "At least you're not as shy as when we met." I was about to say, Do I need to remind you how much I am used to you?-- and then I bolted upright, skin burning. Because I remembered everything we had done together, remembered being this woman at ease in his embrace, yet I knew bone-deep that I had never even held hands with a man, let alone kissed one. Memories tangled in my throat and I couldn't breathe. Then I realized I had thrown him to the ground. "I'm sorry," I blurted, hoping I had not hurt him. But he was sitting up now too, leaned back with his hands behind him, his head tilted to one side. It was exactly the sort of posture that Ignifex might have sat in. "You saved me," he said quietly. The cadences of his voice were uncanny: entirely familiar, but not exactly like either Ignifex or Shade. "You saved me, and I think that covers almost half your sins." I snorted. "I was more than a little late." "Better than never," he said. "Besides, I did deserve it. I wronged you. Both of me." His mouth tightened, and then he said, whisper-soft, "I'm sorry too. Please forgive me." Neither one of them would ever have apologized so desperately. It was a new person staring back at me with blue eyes-- but I was a new person too. And if he, so long divided, could gather himself together and remember how to love me, then I could do the same for him. "Well, you were at least both handsome, too." I took his hand again; our thumbs rubbed together, and then suddenly we were kissing.”

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“Come on." I took his hand and stood, pulling him up with me. "Let's go home. Aren't you tired of being in this house?" meant the words lightly, but he looked around the sunlit ruins with solemn eyes. "It's strange," he said softly. "I think I'll miss it." And I realized that in every life he had lived, this was his only home and he had never left. "I miss hating my sister," I said, pulling him toward the gateway. "She's a little bit more wicked now, so I can't even hate her for being too kind." But when we were almost at the threshold, he paused again, and this time there was naked fear on his face. "You do realize," he said. "I don't remember how to be anything but a demon lord and his shadow." "I'm still not very good at being anything but a wicked sister." I took his other hand. A handful of kindness, the sparrow had said, and now we each had two. "We'll both be foolish," I said, "and vicious and cruel. We will never be safe with each other." "Don't try too hard to be cheerful." His fingers threaded through mine. "But we'll pretend we know how to love." I smiled at him. "And someday we'll learn." And we walked out through the gateway together.”

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