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Image of the quote is loading... SaveSave There was a problem and that was that. Why didnt make a fiddlers fuck. - Quote by Hubert Selby Jr.

There was a problem and that was that. Why didnt make a fiddlers fuck.

Hubert Selby Jr.
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He didnt know what was defeating him, but he sensed it was something he could not cope with, something that was far beyond his power to control or even at this point in time comprehend.
Hubert Selby Jr.
...and he just sat back and stared at the tube, almost interested in what was happening, trying to find the ability to believe in that lie so he could believe the one within.
Hubert Selby Jr.
Life was not longer something to endure, but to live.
Hubert Selby Jr.
Bodies need poison. Withdrawals without it. Toxin-free airs a killer.
Hubert Selby Jr.
I have joined an ancient fraternity. I have killed a man.
Hubert Selby Jr.
Eventually we all have to accept full and total responsibility for our actions, everything we have done, and have not done.
Hubert Selby Jr.
He looked down at the street, and the unbroken whiteness, and watched his foot touch the snow and listened to the slight crunching sound as he stepped forward. He looked back at his footprints. They were fascinating. He had been the only one to walk along this street today. There wasn’t even the mark of a dog or squirrel, or the scratch of a bird. He continued through the soft, silent snow, a feeling of peace starting to flow through him, helping make his step lighter and easier.
Hubert Selby Jr.
He looked at the houses he had been passing these weeks and though he had never studied them carefully they had become familiar through the process of seeing them so often, and he was now impressed with the change in their appearance as he looked at them through the gray of the air and whiteness of the snow, each house, shrub, tree, bush and mailbox trimmed with snow and blending into the air as if they were just a picture projected upon the still, pearly grayness, just an impression created by the silent snow, a picture on the edge and verge of disappearing and leaving only the air and snow through which he now lightly walked.It did not seem possible, but the air was even softer and quieter. He continued walking alongside his prints feeling he could walk forever, that as long as the silent snow continued falling he could continue walking, and as he did he would leave behind all worries and cares, all horrors of the past and future. There would be nothing to bother him or torture his mind and fill his body with tremors of fear, the dark night of the soul over. There would only be himself and the soft, silent snow; and each flake, in its own life, its own separate and distinct entity, would bring with it its own joy, and he would easily partake of that joy as he continued walking, the gentle, silent snow falling ever so quietly, ever so joyously ... yes, and ever so love-ing-ly ... loveing-ly....
Hubert Selby Jr.
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