Tag Archives: Gone with the Wind


Widewalls, 4 August 2019: 'Breaking Down the Concept Behind Damien Hirst's Shark'

Titles untitled,
Sayings unsaid.

The physical impossibility of death in the mind of someone living.
A metaphysical possibility of life in the hearts of the dead.

The unbearable lightness of being.
A heavy bearability of nought.

Something wicked this way comes.
Nothing good that way goes.

The curious incident of the dog in the night-time.
The tedium of feline days.

The ocean at the end of the lane.
A stream at the start of a sea.

The hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy.
Home thoughts from outer space.

The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.
Dr Hide and Mrs Seek’s banality.

Jam tomorrow and jam yesterday but never jam today.
For one day, and for one day only, marmalade!

To be or not to be, that is the question.
Not to be or to be, that’s not the answer.

A Connecticut Yankee in the court of King Arthur.
The Round Table in the Oval Office.

One day in the life of Ivan Denisovich.
All the nights in the death of Denis Ivanovich.

I know why the caged bird sings.
We don’t know why butterflies won’t talk.

The lost city of the monkey god.
How atheist apes founded a town.

Call me Ishmael.
Don’t call me Iris.

The subtle art of not giving a f*ck.
Rude scientists take out the asterisk.

The life-changing magic of tidying up.
The deathly monotony of making a mess.

Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.
Tomorrow morning I’ll wake up in Waverley for the first time ever.

When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die.
Playing with thrones makes monarchy anarchic.

The past is not dead. In fact, it’s not even past.
The future never comes but lasts for ever.

Why, sometimes, I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.
Breakfast is always a bit of a let-down.

One day I will find the right words, and they all will be simple.
Complex prolixity never fails us.

Nowadays people know the price of everything and the value of nothing.
Once upon a time, Martians knew the value of everything and the price of nothing.

I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything.
She hates me, especially the middle bit.

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
It was a dark hot day in October, but the days were shorter.

What fresh hell is this?
Can heaven really be this stale?

The past is a foreign country: they do things differently there.
The future is nowhere. No-one does anything there.

The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.
If you think you can fly, think again.

It was the day my grandmother exploded.
Coincidentally, my grandad imploded that night.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.
The future.

Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.
That’s not the same as the book, Frankie.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the road less travelled by.
Me? I’ll turn off at the tree junction.

How to win friends and influence people.
How to upset animals and keep your enemies.

I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It’s nice.
Keep calm and carry on, boring as that may be.

Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe.
Ant and Dec fail to find out why the world’s so one-dimensional.

A tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
Shut up!

I was half in love with her by the time we sat down.
When we stood up, I was totally in love with him.

A single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.
Wealthy wives don’t want broke bachelors.

And so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.
Surely he can’t keep going on and on and on?

Titles untitled,
Sayings unsaid.

I could go on and on and on but I won’t.
I’m gone.

"House by the Railroad," Edward Hopper, 1925