Date: 2000

"I rolled my forehead against hers, trying to break through the fortress of our lonely skulls and meld our yearning minds."

— Edward St. Aubyn (b. 1960)

Date: 2000

"Oh, for God's sake, let's stop being so cerebral; let's daub our bodies in mud and stomp around on the ground, inviting Gaia to join in our revels; let's knock back a pint of ayahuasca with some authentic tribal persons, hurtle down the tunnel of psychedelic consciousness to the dawn of time, an...

— Edward St. Aubyn (b. 1960)

Date: 2000

"Oh, for God's sake, let's stop being so cerebral; let's daub our bodies in mud and stomp around on the ground, inviting Gaia to join in our revels; let's knock back a pint of ayahuasca with some authentic tribal persons, hurtle down the tunnel of psychedelic consciousness to the dawn of tim...

— Edward St. Aubyn (b. 1960)

Date: 2001

"[T]his is how it is described in the book Le Jardin des Plantes, in which Claude Simon descends once more into the storehouse of memories, and on page 235 begins to tell the fragmentary tale of a certain Gastone Novelli who, like Améry, was subjected to this particular form of torture."

— Sebald, W. G. (1944-2001)

Date: 2001

"Memories like this came back to me in the disused Ladies' Waiting Room of Liverpool Street Station, memories behind and within which many things much further back in the past seemed to lie, all interlocking like the labyrinthine vaults I saw in the dusty gray light, and which seemed to go on and...

— Sebald, W. G. (1944-2001)

Date: 2001

"I walked around this place, said Austerlitz, his left hand pointing to the tall brick façade of the hospital building towering behind the wall, in the curiously remote state of mind induced by the drugs I was being given; both desolate and weirdly contented I wandered, all through that winter, u...

— Sebald, W. G. (1944-2001)

Date: 2001

"But loss is a current: the coolness of one side of a wet finger held up, the faint hiss in your ears at midnight, water sliding over the dam at the back of your mind, memory unremembering itself."

— Richardson, James (b. 1950)

Date: 2001

"The mind is like a well-endowed museum, only a small fraction of its holdings on view at any one time, and this is true from hour to hour as well as from era to era."

— Richardson, James (b. 1950)

Date: 2003

"The mind is a hotel with a thousand rooms."

— Dinh, Linh (b. 1963)

Date: Summer, 2004

"Because of the way we live, the basement of the American mind fills up with the sexual use of other people."

— Greif, Mark (b. 1975)