Dreams, like memories, are shores we row toward to escape the ever same tomorrows and their cruel futility. Days which cannot express themselves are grey and cold. Mute days whose untidy gestures tear us apart. I have the impression of moving in the shadow of syllables, in regions before secrets, where language cannot yet answer… Continue reading Edmond Jabès
Ah, the sun will catch me, in my disturbing transparency. What am I but an awareness of the dark, forever? — Edmond Jabès, The Book of Questions I. Translated by Rosmarie Waldrop. (Wesleyan; Rev. ed. Trans. from the French edition, September 15, 1991) Originally published 1963.
Faith is not a question of the existence or non-existence of God. It is believing that love without reward is valuable. — Emmanuel Levinas
I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live. ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. (Houghton Mifflin 1 April 2005 1st edition)
I am always sad, I think. Perhaps this signifies that I am not sad at all, because sadness is something lower than your normal disposition, and I am always the same thing. Perhaps I am the only person in the world, then, who never becomes sad. Perhaps I am lucky. — Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything… Continue reading Jonathan Safran Foer
From space, astronauts can see people making love as a tiny speck of light. Not light, exactly, but a glow that could be mistaken for light–a coital radiance that takes generations to pour like honey through the darkness to the astronaut’s eyes. In about one and a half centuries–after the lovers who made the glow… Continue reading Jonathan Safran Foer
I hope that one day you will have the experience of doing something you do not understand for someone you love. ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close. Published byHoughton Mifflin 1 April 2005 (1st edition)