In his clearest moments he thinks he has lost the ability to love, people or places or things, most of all the… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
“He is wearing he same black pants from yesterday, but no shirt, his body is brown and hard, perfectly proportioned. He knows that he… — damon galgut Copy Share Image
The only way you can be universal is to be sure you are very specifically local. — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
“As a result, he is hardly ever happy in the place where he is, something in him is already moving forward to the next… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
Things happen once only and are never repeated, never return. Except in memory. — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
If I had done this, if I had said that, in the end you are always more tormented by what you didn't do than… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
Poetry was syllable and rhythm. Poetry was the measurement of breath. Poetry was time make audible. Poetry evoked the present moment; poetry was the… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
“Past a certain point, maybe, a person's character defines itself and stays fixed in your mind.” — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
“Memory is fiction . . . All memory is a way of reconstructing the past. . . The act of narrating a memory is… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
“...if you are names without a nature, it's not because I don't remember, no, the opposite is true, you are remembered in me as… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
A journey is a gesture inscribed in space, it vanishes even as it's made. You go from one place to another place, and on… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
There's no theme, no moral to be learned, except for the knowledge that lightning can strike from a clear blue sky one morning and… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image
“He has always had a dread of crossing borders, he doesn't like to leave what's known and safe for the blank space beyond in… — Damon Galgut Copy Share Image