‘But the mingled, mingling threads of life are woven by warp and woof: calms crossed by storms, a storm for every calm. There is no steady, unretracing progress in this life; we do not advance through fixed graduations, and at the last one pause…’
Monday, March 24, 2014
Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea
'My memories are like the coins in the devil's purse: when it was opened, nothing was found in it but dead leaves.' (52)
