Nick Tosches

Newark, New Jersey
Nick Tosches
Newark, New Jersey

Quotes

02 June 2016
“And, of course, that is what all of this is - all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs - that song, endlesly reincarnated - born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket 88, that Buick 6 - same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness.”
02 June 2016
“Exceptional men do not hold their experiences to be out of the ordinary or of interest to anyone else. Unlike the trodden fungus-men, they are not so ignorantly and presumptuously self-absorbed. They are nobody and they know it. They shun notice. They are exceedingly rare.”
02 June 2016
“The older you get, the more you live with ghosts.”
02 June 2016
“I believe in the power of origins, a belief that, as Ecclesiastes put it, that wich is done is that wich shall be done: and there is no new thing under de sun; that we claim as originality and discovery are nothing but the airs and delusios of our innocence, ignorance, and arrogance: that whatever is said was said better - more powerfully, beautifully, and purely, long ago”
02 June 2016
“It is always easier to see in another what we are uncomfortable with in ourselves.”
02 June 2016
“They all fear death, but they want to hurry and cast away the time remaining between now and the grave. I cant wait till this days over, they say. I wish this week would end, they say. I cant wait until next month, they say. All of life they will ever know lies in the present breath that they are granted. But they, who would think us crazy for throwing away socks, throw away everything in their rush to obliterate their lives and be devoured all the sooner by their greatest fear. The end and its grave-mold. Their beginning is their end: a brief, nervous twitch of panic and dread, and nothing more.”
02 June 2016
02 June 2016
“America was a land of machines, and it was through machines, the miraculous handmaidens of mob culture, that the muses of illiteracy brought America her voice and vision during the years of the immigrants’ waves. Centuries ago, movable type had given literacy to the common man. Now, through these wondrous newer machines, he would give it back.”
02 June 2016
“I wanted to be alone, not forgotten.”

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