Sunday, 24 March 2013

Morning instants....

Those lovely morning instants 
when all personal things seem trivial and insignificant;
when one feels within oneself the pride of laws one is seeking.



A distaste for closing things together;



you always keep everything open, you always keep everything apart.



You really only want to learn and directly record what you have grasped.



From day to day, you grasp more, but you are reluctant to sum up;



as though it could ultimately 
be possible to express everything 
in a few sentences on some single day, 
but then definitively.





An undevourable wish that this day will not come 
until the end of your life, 
as late as possible.
Elias Canetti 
The human Province 1957