“I realized that searching was my symbol, the emblem of those who
go out at night with nothing in mind, the motives of a destroyer of
compasses.”
―
Julio Cortazar
“But what is memory if not the language of feeling, a dictionary of
faces and days and smells which repeat themselves like the verbs and
adjectives in a speech, sneaking in behind the thing itself,into the
pure present, making us sad or teaching us vicariously...”
―
Julio Cortázar,
Hopscotch
No comments:
Post a Comment