Unwitting teachers

"I have learnt silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers."

Kahlil Gibran, poet, and artist (1883-1931)

Hard and sad

"He is a hard man who is only just, and a sad one who is only wise."

Voltaire, French philosopher (1694-1778)

Fragment #6

The stench would long remain in her nostrils, as her doll dragged behind her on a leash. The black bags lined up to where the sky ended. The stench would come back to her in the deeps of night, when sweating and panting she would see the bags waking into motion, summoned by invisible threads, and stack in the quicklimed pit, in order, as close as they were in life.

As for now, her doll would join the rest of her belongings in her plastic bag. The ground was dirty.

She made

I met her at a point when I thought that nothing could abate the pain pricking my sides.

She made me see the light where I saw only, only darkness.

She held my head so as to face it.

She made me remember what I had forgotten.

She made me smile and laugh because I had forgotten the sound of my own voice.

I had to listen again to the sound of the wind in the reeds to know the sound.

She made me breathe again in the open air.

She opened a rend in the clouds to make me feel the rain.

She made me whole, again, and see the colours of the sky at the break of day.

She tore the crust off a loaf of bread, and handed it to me. Instinctively, I munched it between my molars. This I had forgotten too.

She was there when I wasn't anymore, and understood that I couldn't dwell amongst the everyday.

She made me realise the everyday was where I had to be to understand.

So there I went, heavy of heart and with a sore soul. I struggled and came out, after what seems aeons of buffets and sighs, victorious, amongst the living.

She made me ride unknown storms and stand upon the wreck of the bloody plains, beholding.

I couldn't have done any of these things I take pride in without her.

She made me find the strength whilst having none.

She made me try with all my heart, made me see what I could, made me, made me.

Curved hills and levelled mountains to do so.

If only I had met her.

Deep down

"A profound unmitigated loneliness is the only truth of life."

R.K. Narayan, writer (1906-2001)

A deep breadth

"What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."

Crowfoot, Native American warrior and orator (1821-1890)

Le Puits

1897

"Assailli d'idées malsaines, telles que : « Si toute ma famille, si tous ceux que j'aime par devoir, disparaissaient brusquement… Si j'étais seul, enfin… »

J'ai toujours dans ma poche un La Bruyère que je n'en tire jamais.

Rien ne vieillit comme la mort d'un père. Tiens ? C'est moi, maintenant, le père Renard, et Fantec, qui était petit-fils, passe fils.

Un petit nuage au ciel, comme une oie égarée.

La dame de compagnie qui vous accueille avec un bon sourire : c'est peut-être vous qui aurez des égards pour elle.

Les étoiles, comme de petits yeux qui ne s'habituent pas à l'obscurité.

Toutes mes journées pleines, et mon âme toujours vide.

Oui, oui, une petite femme qui garderait les vaches et lirait la Revue blanche.

On dit d'un auteur qui n'a pas de ficelles : « Il ne sait pas le théâtre », et d'un qui sait le théâtre : « Oh ! il a des ficelles. »

14 juin. Pas de génie, mais de petits génies éphémères.

Va, va ! Cherche la main divine qui nous tend l'hostie de la lune.

15 juin. L'homme, cette taupe de l'atmosphère.

Les livres frais qui sentent le cadavre, la charogne.

J'ai mal aux idées. Mes idées sont malades, et je n'ai pas honte de ce mal secret. Je n'ai plus aucun goût, non seulement au travail, mais à la paresse. Aucun remords de ne rien faire. Je suis las comme un qui aurait fait le tour des astres. Je crois que j'ai touché le fond de mon puits."

Jules Renard, Journal 1877-1910

Cutlery

"Manners are a sensitive awareness of the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use."

Emily Post, author and columnist (1872-1960)

When the battle's lost and won

"No battle is ever won he said. They are not even fought. The field only reveals to man his own folly and despair, and victory is an illusion of philosophers and fools."

William Faulkner, novelist (1897-1962)

If music be the food of force, play on!

"The best music is essentially there to provide you something to face the world with."

Bruce Springsteen, musician (b. 1949)