December 2011
Quite generally, the familiar, just because it is familiar, is not cognitively...
– Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit (toniiu)
Yet, no matter how deeply I go down into myself, my God is dark, and like a...
– Rainer Maria Rilke (zulabelle)
I remember my first birth in water. All round me a sulphurous transparency and...
– Anaïs Nin, House of Incest (mitochondria)
Love is where you find it. I think it is foolish to go looking for it, and I...
– Kurt Vonnegut (funeral)
It’s all about time, dimwit time, inferior time, people checking watches and...
– Don DeLillo, Point Omega (barrymanifold)
Tutto, terribilmente.
– Apollinaire
Non mi presto a chiacchiere. Sto zitta. Mi sottraggo, mi allontano. Sono sempre...
– Anais Nin (via)
Please — consider me a dream.
– Franz Kafka
Individuality is an illusion, the details of my existence are no more important...
– Dyus (TES4) (w)
Meravigliose le tue braccia. Quando
morirò vieni ad abbracciarmi, ma
senza il...
– Eugenio Montale (diciottosei)
In dark and silence to close as if to light the eyes and hear a sound. Some...
– Samuel Beckett, Company, 1979 (silencesounds)
To think of motion not merely as a function of the body but as an extension of...
– Paul Auster, Disappearances – Selected Poems, 1988 (schmudde, somnambulatorie)
Ma che grazia di sole e d’acque sporche
ci separò d’un tratto la mattina.
– Sandro Penna (umanesimo, somnambulatorie)
Language is never innocent.
– Roland Barthes (hypocrite-lecteur)
I said so little.
Days were short.
– Czeslaw Milosz (vashti)
In order to attain non-attachment, sorrow is not enough. There must be sorrow with no consolation. One must accept the past, without asking compensation from the future. Stop time in this moment. Reduce oneself to the point one occupies in space and time. To nothing. Strip oneself of the imaginary royalty of the world. Absolute loneliness. Then one has the truth of the world.
Simone Weil...
Quello che rifiutiamo non è senza valore, né senza importanza. È proprio per ciò...
– M. Blanchot, L’amicizia, XIII. Il rifiuto (astro)
Cloître ton cœur mort en mon cœur tué.
– (xpn)