‘And then it came back, when some time had passed, the voice that told me, You made yourself ill, you let yourself go. I’ve let myself go, I said, you’re right. You don’t know the half of it, it said. You let yourself go and you paid for it and now you have to climb back and you don’t know how to start without my telling you. And you won’t listen.’
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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