The poetic image is a sudden salience on the surface of the psyche
Gaston BachelardThe poetic image […] is not an echo of the past. On the contrary: through the brilliance of any image, the distant past resounds with echoes.
Gaston BachelardNobody knows that in reading we are re-living our temptations to be a poet. All readers who have a certain passion for reading, nurture and repress, through reading, the desire to become a writer.
Gaston BachelardThe cleverer I am at miniaturizing the world, the better I possess it.
Gaston BachelardIt is better to live in a state of impermanence than in one of finality.
Gaston BachelardThe reveries of two solitary souls prepare the sweetness of loving.
Gaston BachelardL'eau est vraiment l'élément transitoire. Il est la métamorphose ontologique essentielle entre le feu et la terre
Gaston BachelardL'individu n'est pas la somme de ses impressions générales, il est la somme de ses impressions singulières.
Gaston BachelardA creature that hides and “withdraws into its shell,” is preparing a “way out.” This is true of the entire scale of metaphors, from the resurrection of a man in his grave, to the sudden outburst of one who has long been silent. If we remain at the heart of the image under consideration, we have the impression that, by staying in the motionlessness of its shell, the creature is preparing temporal explosions, not to say whirlwinds, of being.
Gaston BachelardStichwörter: life silence introspection introversion hiding shell phil
I was born in a country of brooks and rivers, in a corner of Champagne, called Le Vallage for the great number of its valleys. The most beautiful of its places for me was the hollow of a valley by the side of fresh water, in the shade of willows...My pleasure still is to follow the stream, to walk along its banks in the right direction, in the direction of the flowing water, the water that leads life towards the next village...Dreaming beside the river, I gave my imagination to the water, the green, clear water, the water that makes the meadows green. ...The stream doesn’t have to be ours; the water doesn’t have to be ours. The anonymous water knows all my secrets. And the same memory issues from every spring.
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