Characteristic of sickness: to stay awake when everything sleeps, when everything is at rest, even the sick man. After a sleepless night, the people in the street seem automatons. No one seems to breathe, to walk, Each looks as if he is worked by clockwork: nothing spontaneous; mechanical smiles, spectral gesticulations. Yourself a specter, how would you see others as alive? Speech and silence. We feel safer with a madman who talks than with one who cannot open his mouth. What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his? We understand God by everything in ourselves that is fragmentary, incomplete, and inopportune. Emil Cioran -
Posted on: Sun, 18 Aug 2013 23:58:16 +0000
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