22 quotes
How alike are the groans of love, to those of the dying.
Under the Volcano (1947)
What is man but a little soul holding up a corpse?
Under the Volcano (1947)
How shall the murdered man convince his assassin he will not haunt him.
Under the Volcano (1947)
For a time they confronted each other like two mute unspeaking forts.
Under the Volcano (1947)
What beauty can compare to that of a cantina in the early morning?
Under the Volcano (1947)
In the war to come correspondents would assume unheard of importance, plunging through flame to feed the public its little gobbets of dehydrated excrement.
Under the Volcano (1947)
The will of man is unconquerable. Even God cannot conquer it.
Under the Volcano (1947)
I want your life filling and stirring me. I want your happiness beneath my heart and your sorrows in my eyes and your peace in the fingers of my hand.
Under the Volcano (1947)
And how could he know whether it was a good omen or not without another drink?
Under the Volcano (1947)
But my lord, Yvonne, surely you know by this time I can’t get drunk however much I drink.
Under the Volcano (1947)
In the final analysis there was no one you could trust to drink with you to the bottom of the bowl.
Under the Volcano (1947)
Nothing in the world was more terrible than an empty bottle! Unless it was an empty glass.
Under the Volcano (1947)
You can´t live without loving.
Under the Volcano (1947)
And this is how I sometimes think of myself, as a great explorer who has discovered some extraordinary land from which he can never return to give his knowledge to the world: but the name of this land is hell.
Under the Volcano (1947)
God, how pointless and empty the world is! Days filled with cheap and tarnished moments succeed each other, restless and haunted nights follow in bitter routine: the sun shines without brightness, and the moon rises without light.
Under the Volcano (1947)
The howling pariah dogs, the cocks that herald dawn all night, the drumming, the moaning that will be found later white plumage huddled on telegraph wires in back gardens or fowl roosting in apple trees, the eternal sorrow that never sleeps of great Mexico.
Under the Volcano (1947)
Though tragedy was in the process of becoming unreal and meaningless it seemed one was still permitted to remember the days when an individual life held some value and was not a mere misprint in a communiqué.
Under the Volcano (1947)
I wake to a darkness in which I must follow myself endlessly, hating the I who so eternally pursues and confronts me. If we could rise from our misery, seek each other once more, and find again the solace of each other’s lips and eyes.
Under the Volcano (1947)
There was no mistaking, even in the uncertain light, the hand, half crabbed, half generous, and wholly drunken, of the Consul himself, the Greek e’s, the flying buttresses of d’s, the t’s like lonely wayside crosses save where they crucified an entire word.
Under the Volcano (1947)
"Christ," he remarked, puzzled, "this is a dingy way to die."
Under the Volcano (1947)