To the Reader To the Reader Folly, error, sin, and penny-pinching Preoccupy our minds and belabor our bodies And we feed our amiable remorse Like beggars nourishing their vermin. Our sins are stubborn, our repentance weak — We demand generous payment for our confessions And we return gaily to the muddy path, Believing a few… Continue reading Charles Baudelaire
Letting my sorrow flow free and sweet. — Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time Volume 2: In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower or Within a Budding Grave (Penguin Classics; Reprint edition January 25, 2005) Originally published 1919.
Yes, we have lost track of the light, the mornings, the holy innocence of those who forgive themselves. — Albert Camus, The Fall (Vintage Books, 1957)
Wandering creates the desert. – Edmond Jabès, quoted in A Nomad Poetics: Essays. Written by Pierre Joris. (Wesleyan November 5, 2003)
How shallow is the stage on which this vast drama of human hates and joys and friendships is played! Whence do men draw this passion for eternity, flung by chance as they are upon a scarcely cooled bed of lava, threatened by the beginning by the deserts that are to be, under the constant menace… Continue reading Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Am I in love? –yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual,… Continue reading Roland Barthes
Nothingness is a sigh of eternity, a casual avowal of the infinite. — Edmond Jabès, The Book of Resemblances. (Wesleyan April 1, 1990)