No one pays attention to these killings, but the secret of the world is hidden in them.
Interpretation
This quote highlights how often overlooked tragedies can reveal deeper truths about the human experience.
Roberto Bolano's quote suggests that society frequently ignores the individual tragedies and killings that occur around it. However, he posits that these often dismissed events hold profound insights into the intricacies and realities of the world, implying that by examining them, one can uncover essential truths about human nature and society.
In practice
In a speech addressing the societal issues we face, one might say, 'No one pays attention to these killings, but the secret of the world is hidden in them.'
Coincidence obeys no laws and if it does we don't know what they are. Coincidence, if you'll permit me the simile, is like the manifestation of God at every moment on our planet. A senseless God making senseless gestures at his senseless creatures. In that hurricane, in that osseous implosion, we find communion.
The sky, at sunset, looked like a carnivorous flower.
I'd obviously never heard of the group, but my ignorance in literary matters is to blame for that (every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me).
Every book in the world is out there waiting to be read by me.
Bright colours in the west, giant butterflies dancing as night crept like a cripple toward the east.
Being alone makes us stronger. Thatβs the honest truth. But itβs cold comfort, since even if I wanted company no one will come near me anymore.
It's a curious thing in American life that the most abject nonsense will be excused if the utterer can claim the sanction of religion. A country which forbids an established church by law is prey to any denomination. The best that can be said is that this is pluralism of a kind.
Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.
Spirituality for me is recognizing that I am connected to the energy of all creation, that I am a part of it and it is always a part of me.
I would certainly end up forever crying the blues into a coffee cup in a park for old men playing chess or silly games of some sort.
Strange - is it not? That of the myriads who Before us passed the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the road Which to discover we must travel too.
I'm an Afro-realist. I take what comes, and I do my best to affect what is unacceptable in society.
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