I am prisoner of a gaudy and unlivable present, where all forms of human society have reached an extreme of their cycle and there is no imagining what new forms they may assume.
Biographical data, even those recorded in the public registers, are the most private things one has, and to declare them openly is rather like facing a psychoanalyst.
It is not the voice that commands the story: it is the ear.
The satirist is prevented by repulsion from gaining a better knowledge of the world he is attracted to, yet he is forced by attraction to concern himself with the world that repels him.
Melancholy is sadness that has taken on lightness.
The catalogue of forms is endless: until every shape has found its city, new cities will continue to be born. When the forms exhaust their variety and come apart, the end of cities begins.
Myth is the hidden part of every story, the buried part, the region that is still unexplored because there are as yet no words to enable us to get there. Myth is nourished by silence as well as by words.
Traveling, you realize that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents.
The struggle of literature is in fact a struggle to escape from the confines of language; it stretches out from the utmost limits of what can be said; what stirs literature is the call and attraction of what is not in the dictionary.
Topics: Books, Literature
- Luigi Pirandello Italian Dramatist
- Giacomo Leopardi Italian Poet
- Benito Mussolini Italian Head of State
- Katherine Anne Porter American Journalist
- Robertson Davies Canada Journalist
- Jeanette Winterson English Novelist
- Giuseppe Mazzini Italian Philosopher
- G. K. Chesterton English Journalist
- Christopher Morley American Journalist
- Catherine of Siena Italian Philosopher