Life & Wisdom Quote by Henry Miller

Apocalypse, in Miller's hands, is less an event than a habit. "The world dies over and over again, but the skeleton always gets up and walks" delivers its jolt by making catastrophe feel almost mechanical: death happens, yes, but what survives is the stripped-down frame of life, shambling forward out of sheer refusal to stop. The image is comic in its bluntness and grim in its accuracy. A skeleton isn't triumphant; it's what's left when the soft, consoling narratives have been burned away. Miller loves that kind of honesty.

The intent is anti-melodrama. He isn't selling hope as a shiny redemption arc; he's mocking our tendency to treat every collapse as final and every crisis as singular. Wars, bankruptcies, broken loves, failed regimes - the "world" keeps ending in miniature, and yet the basic apparatus of existence resets. That "always" carries the bite: you don't get to opt out of continuity just because you're disgusted with the moment.

The subtext is Miller's longtime argument with civilization. For a writer obsessed with poverty, sex, art, and spiritual hangovers, the modern world is constantly announcing its own decadence, constantly panicking about decline. He replies with a sneer and a shrug: even if the grand story disintegrates, the bare structure persists. There's resilience here, but it's not inspirational-poster resilience; it's persistence as compulsion, life as a stubborn, half-undead force.

Contextually, Miller wrote through two world wars and the ideological churn of the 20th century, when "the end" kept being predicted, marketed, and felt. The line reads like someone who's watched too many endings to be impressed by one.