“This kind of writing…”
“What about it?”
“It’s ridiculous. Look at it. What’s it about? Nothing! Abstracted from everything.”
“But maybe it’s better that way. Look at all the stuff that’s supposed to be about something that would be better off if it was about nothing. Or not even about nothing. Was nothing!”
Everyone carries a room about inside him. This fact can even be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one's ears and listens, say in the night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.
Notes for a fragmentary novel entitled The Moment, linked at the top of the page.
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