Il y a une goutte d'eau dans ma tête. () Un coeur, un coeur dans ma tête.
I feel the old dark gathering, the solitude preparing, by which I know myself, and the call of that ignorance which might be noble and is mere poltroonery.
How long have I been here, what a question, I've often wondered. And often I could answer, An hour, a month, a year, a century, depending on what I meant by here, and me, and being, and there I never...
Hell itself, although eternal, dates from the revolt of Lucifer. It is therefore permissible, in the light of this distant analogy, to think of myself as being here for ever, but not as having been he...
He was split, one part of him never left this mental chamber that pictured itself as a sphere full of light fading into dark, because there was no way out. But motion in this world depended on rest in...
Having oscillated all his life between the torments of a superficial loitering and the horrors of disinterested endeavour, he finds himself at last in a situation where to do nothing exclusively would...
Habit is a compromise effected between the individual and his environment, or between the individual and his own organic eccentricities, the guarantee of a dull inviolability, the lightning-conductor...
For to know nothing is nothing, not to want to know anything likewise, but to be beyond knowing anything, to know you are beyond knowing anything, that is when peace enters in, to the soul of the incu...
For the climber averse to avoidable acrobatics a given niche may lie so many paces or meters to east or west of the woman vanquished without of course his naming her thus or otherwise even in his thou...
Die Tränen der Welt sind unvergänglich. Für jeden der anfängt zu weinen hört ein anderer irgendwo auf. Genauso ist das mit dem Lachen. Sagen Sie also nichts schlechtes von unserer Epoche. Sie ist nich...
Delicious instants, before one's eyes get used to the dark.
But I pushed and pulled in vain, the wheels would not turn. It was as though the brakes were jammed, and heaven knows they were not, for my bicycle had no brakes. And suddenly overcome by a great wear...
And in winter, under my greatcoat, I wrapped myself in swathes of newspaper, and did not shed them until the earth awoke, for good, in April. The Times Literary Supplement was admirably adapted to thi...
Already all confusion. Things and imaginings. As of always. Confusion amounting to nothing. Despite precautions. If only she could be pure figment. Unalloyed. This old so dying woman. So dead. In the...
All is tedious, in this relation that is forced upon me.
Looking at the tree) Pity we haven't got a bit of rope.
لو استطعت استخدام جسدي لألقيت به من النافذه ، معرفتي بعجزي هي التي تشجعني على مثل هذا التفكير .
لأتحدث عن الفترة أصبحت فيها سائلاً وتحولت إلى شيء كالوّحل . وبلا حزن مفرط لقد اعتدت على تحسس الأشياء وأنا جامد الحركة .
الكلمات والصور تعربد مسرعة في رأسي وتندمج فتختلط مع أنفاسي.وحين أخرج أنفاسي تملأ الغرفة بضجيجها،مع إنه صدري لا يتحرك إلا كطفل نائم.
You don't feel a mouth on you, you don't feel your mouth any more, no need of a mouth, the words are everywhere, inside me, outside me...