‘After those days it was as if I’d been razed. I couldn’t think or talk in the same way. I couldn’t go back, but I was still in the same place, picking for new growths in the rubble. And the old mist still hung over things. What could replace all I’d known? I didn’t even know what words to use, my own seemed part of the mist, or the rubble. But I saw living things here and there, strong and brief.’
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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