melencolia

Add friend
Sign in to Goodreads to learn more about melencolia.

https://www.goodreads.com/melencolija

Persona: A Biogra...
Rate this book
Clear rating

 
Loading...
Pavel Florensky
“Everything passes, but everything remains. This is a cherished thought for me, that nothing goes away for ever, nothing is lost, but somehow, somewhere, stays. Its worth remains, although we cease to perceive it. And our labors, even if everyone forgot about them, remain and somehow give their fruits. And for this reason, although I regret the past, there is a living sense of its eternity. I did not part with them eternally, but only in time. And it seems to me that all people, whatever they might think, feel the same in the depth of their souls. Without this, life would become senseless and empty.”
Pavel Florensky, Letters from the Gulag

Comte de Lautréamont
“After some hours, the dogs, exhausted by running round, almost dead, their tongues hanging out, set upon one another and, not knowing what they are doing, tear one another into thousands of pieces with incredible rapidity. Yet they do not do this out of cruelty.

One day, a glazed look in her eyes, my mother said to me: ‘When you are in bed and you hear the barking of the dogs in the countryside, hide beneath your blanket, but do not deride what they do: they have an insatiable thirst for the infinite, as you, and I, and all other pale, long-faced human beings do.’

Since that time, I have respected the dead woman’s wish. Like those dogs I feel the need for the infinite. I cannot, cannot satisfy this need. I am the son of a man and a woman, from what I have been told.

This astonishes me…I believed I was something more.”
Comte de Lautréamont, Les Chants de Maldoror

Fyodor Dostoevsky
“I tell you solemnly, that I have many times tried to become an insect. But I was not equal even to that. I swear, gentlemen, that to be too conscious is an illness- a real thorough-going illness.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from Underground

Yukio Mishima
“The instant that the blade tore open his flesh, the bright disk of the sun soared up and exploded behind his eyelids.”
Yukio Mishima, Runaway Horses

Emil M. Cioran
“Is it possible that existence is our exile and nothingness our home?”
Emil Cioran, Tears and Saints

year in books
MuzWot ...
2,105 books | 5,393 friends

Zweifel
608 books | 48 friends

Comte d...
1,347 books | 2 friends

2fel
2,412 books | 33 friends

Thomas
1,013 books | 1 friend

Hauntology
1,102 books | 14 friends

Simon K...
39 books | 33 friends

Belšazar
111 books | 9 friends

More friends…



Polls voted on by melencolia

Lists liked by melencolia