Antwone

“I do not wish to explain my passion – that would imply that it was a mistake or some disorder I need to justify – but simply to describe it.”
― Annie Ernaux, Simple Passion

“Isn't it our duty to accept that faithless friend as we do the faithful one who sacrifices himself? Is disinterest not the essence of every human relationship? That the more we give, the less we expect?”
― Sándor Márai, Embers

“Between the day that has just ended and the one that is about to begin there is a moment of absolute suspense. I awaken and perhaps I no longer know who I am nor who is asleep beside me, so I quickly invent a name, a story in which to pour my anguish. I construct an identity, but how can I be sure that today’s is truly the same as yesterday’s, or that the world exists? Are we sleeping gods unaware that we are dreaming, each of us constantly creating the world? Then the night claims me again, I tell myself that I’m talking nonsense, but perhaps that is not so; I am not convinced that that moment of uncertainty was not one of lucidity. Fear sustains the illusion, then the cat comes and purrs against my cheek, reassuring me. The first dawn bird sings, it has no doubts, it knows who it is and it must know who I am.”
― Jacqueline Harpman, Orlanda

“I am not angry at you, said his friend with emphatic seriousness. I only wanted you to see it all once, and understand. When the Bavarian came at me with his drawn sword and started lunging and feinting in all directions like a lunatic, as if he were entertaining himself and as if our attempts to slash and cripple each other out of pure vanity were nothing but a huge joke, I suddenly saw my mother's face, saw her walking to the market every day for fear that the cook might overcharge her by two fillers, because at the end of a year the two fillers all add up to five florins, which she can send me in an envelope...and I literally wanted to kill the Bavarian who wanted to injure me out of sheer bravado, and had no idea that anything he might do to me would be a mortal offense against two people in Galicia who have sacrificed their lives for me without a word.”
― Sándor Márai, Embers