glamarieous

“This is your life. This is yours. You can establish an exact inventory of your meager fortune, the precise balance sheet of your first quarter-century. You are twenty-five years old, you have twenty-nine teeth, three shirts and eight socks, a few books you no longer read, a few records you no longer play. You do not want to remember anything else, be it your family or your studies, your friends and lovers, or your holidays and plans. You traveled and you brought nothing back from your travels. Here you sit, and you want only to wait, just to wait until there is nothing left to wait for: for night to fall and the passing hours to chime, for the days to slip away and the memories to fade.”
― Georges Perec, Un homme qui dort

“Ha bisogno di qualche ristoro
il mio buio cuore disperso

Negli incastri fangosi dei sassi
come un'erba di questa contrada
vuol tremare piano alla luce”
― Giuseppe Ungaretti, Il porto sepolto

“This heart within me I can feel, and I judge that it exists. This world I can touch, and I likewise judge that it exists. There ends all my knowledge, and the rest is construction. (...) Forever I shall be a stranger to myself.”
― Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

“Sino alla morte in balia del viaggio”
― Giuseppe Ungaretti, Il porto sepolto