Living, as distinct from literary, speech is continually interrupted, and there is never a single thread.
What can happen in twenty-four hours may outlast a century.
Silence can be like a hand extended. (Or, of course, under different circumstances, a hand cut off.)
Write by hand with a knuckle bleeding. Like this blood underlines some of the words.
Every story is about an achievement, otherwise there’s no story.
Hope today is a contraband passed from hand to hand and from story to story.
from John Berger’s Bento’s Sketchbook (Verso 2011)