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266 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1928
Nothing remained but shadows in an empty room and memories in my soul. An autumn and a past started to coalesce. Oh Nonora, Nonora – if only her lips and her curves had never tempted me, I would have remained close to everyone else. I would have come to know mediocre happiness and the dull grey of a life lived, without any significant steps forward. I would have acquired the cynical, sentimental bitterness of those who say: I was so alive when I was young! Why do people confuse wasting youth with living it? Why do my peers not understand that a certain kind of personality, guided by a certain kind of mind, can, over the course of a few vivid and intense weeks, experience whole years’ worth of their hopes and dreams? And why do they not understand that the imperative of youth is always to move on?
‘We can’t understand anything on our own. It comes to us, at a certain age, like the sexual urge or arthritis.’
‘But I want to find an answer, through logic.’
‘I suggest you first become completely and utterly confused. Afterwards, you’ll begin to see clearly, to understand organically, effortlessly, without torment.’