All that remains of that minute is time in all its purity, bone-white time.
Y.A.: Ça sert à quoi, écrire?M.D.: C'est à la fois se taire et parler. écrire. Ça veut dore aussi chanter quelquefois.Y.A.: Danser?M.D.: Ça compte aussi. C'est un état de l'individu, danser. J'ai beau...
Y seguiré ahí, lamentándome de todo lo que haga, de todo lo que deje, de todo lo que tome, tanto lo bueno como lo malo.
What she tells the Japanese is this lost opportunity which has made her what she is.The story she tells of this lost opportunity literally transports her outside herself and carries her toward this ne...
We, her children, are heroic, dersperate.
That she had so completely recovered her sanity was a source of sadness to her. One should never be cured of one's passion.
Que se serait-il passé ? Lol ne va pas loin dans l'inconnu sur lequel s'ouvre cet instant. Elle ne dispose d'aucun souvenir même imaginaire, elle n'a aucune idée sur cet inconnu. Mais ce qu'elle croit...
One day,I was already old, a man came up to me in the street.
Nỗi cô đơn của văn chương là nỗi cô đơn mà nếu không có nó sẽ không có tác phẩm, hoặc tác phẩm sẽ phải nhỏ từng giọt máu để tìm xem phải viết thêm gì. Mất máu, nó không còn được tác giả công nhận nữa.
Even so you have managed to live that love in the only way possible for you. Losing it before it happened.
Años después de la guerra, después de las bodas, de los hijos, de los divorcios, de los libros,llegó a París con su mujer. El le telefoneó. Soy yo. Ella le reconoció por la voz. El dijo:sólo quería oí...
Men like women who write. Even though they don't say so. A writer is a foreign country.
It's afterwards you realize that the feeling of happiness you had with a man didn't necessarily prove that you loved him.
You didn't have to attract desire. Either it was in the woman who aroused it or it didn't exist. Either it was there at first glance or else it had never been.
Aucun couple, même le meilleur, ne peut encourager à l'amour, ce n'est pas vrai.
بقيتُ لأرى. لأرى كيف يكتسح الموت الذبابَ تدريجيًّا ، و كذا لأعرف من أين ينبعث هذا الموت. من الخارج ، من كثافة الجدار ، أم من الأرض. من أي ليلٍ يأتي ، من البسيطة أم من السماء ، من الغابات القريبة ، أم...
No se trata de que sea necesario conseguir algo, sino de que es necesario salirse de donde se está
Night.The beach and the sea are in darkness.A dog passes, going toward the sea wall.No one walks on the boardwalk, but, on the benches lining it, people sit. They relax. Are silent. Separated from one...
I’ve never written, though I thought I wrote, never loved, though I thought I loved, never done anything but wait outside the closed door.
I want to write. I've already told my mother: That's what I want to do-write. No answer the first time. Then she asks, Write what? I say, Books, novels. [...] She's against it, it's not worthy, it's n...