I learned that books are never finished, that it is possible for stories to go on writing themselves without an author.
Paul AusterStichwörter: literature
Non ricorda più l'ultima volta che è riuscita a dormire per sei ore piene, sei ore ininterrotte senza svegliarsi da un brutto sogno o scoprire che i suoi occhi si erano aperti all'alba, e sa che questi problemi di sonno sono un brutto segno, un avviso inequivocabile del fatto che l'aspettano guai, ma malgrado quello che continua a ripeterle sua madre, non vuole tornare ai farmaci. Prendere una di quelle pillole è come inghiottire una piccola dose di morte. Quando inizi con quella roba, i tuoi giorni vengono trasformati in un regime stordente di smemoratezza e confusione, e non c'è momento in cui senti la testa imbottita di batuffoli di cotone e brandelli di carta. Ellen non vuole chiudere la sua vita per sopravvivere alla sua vita. Vuole che i suoi sensi siano svegli, formulare pensieri che non svaniscano nel mentre le si presentano, sentirsi viva in tutti i modi in cui un tempo si sentiva viva. Ora non sono in programma collassi. Non può permettersi altri cedimenti, ma malgrado gli sforzi di tenersi salda nel qui e ora, la pressione si è nuovamente accumulata in lei, ricomincia a sentire fitte del vecchio panico, il nodo nella gola, il sangue che le scorre troppo in fretta nelle vene, il cuore contratto e il polso frenetico. Paura senza oggetto, come gliel'ha descritta una volta il dottor Burnham. No, dice ora fra sé: paura di morire senza aver vissuto.
Paul AusterPaintings. Or the collapse of time in images.
Paul AusterStichwörter: time paintings painting image images
He finds it extraordinary that on some mornings, just after he has woken up, as he bends down to tie his shoes, he is flooded with a happiness so intense, a happiness so naturally and harmoniously at one with the world, that he can feel himself alive in the present, a present that surrounds him and permeates him, that breaks through him with the sudden, overwhelming knowledge that he is alive. And the happiness he discovers in himself at that moment is extraordinary.
Paul AusterStichwörter: happiness extraordinary alive
It is also true that memory sometimes comes to him as a voice. It is a voice that speaks inside him, and it is not necessarily his own. It speaks to him in the way a voice might tell stories to a child, and yet at times this voice makes fun of him, or calls him to attention, or curses him in no uncertain terms. At times it willfully distorts the story it is telling him, changing the facts to suit its whims, catering to the interests of drama rather than truth. Then he must speak to it in his own voice and tell it to stop, thus returning it to the silence it came from. At other times it sings to him. At still other times it whispers. And then there are the times it merely hums, or babbles, or cries out in pain. And even when it says nothing, he knows it is still there, and in the silence of this voice that says nothing, he waits for it to speak.
Paul AusterIt was. It will never be again. Remember.
Paul AusterStichwörter: literature quotes paul-auster
Reason and memory are nearly always at odds.
Paul AusterI've been trying to fit everything in, trying to get to the end before it's too late, but I see now how badly I've deceived myself. Words do not allow such things. The closer you come to the end, the more there is to say. The end is only imaginary, a destination you invent to keep yourself going, but a point comes when you realize you will never get there. You might have to stop, but that is only because you have run out of time. You stop, but that does not mean you have come to an end.
Paul Austerعلى المرء أن يتعود على الإكتفاء بأقل قدرٍ ممكن ، فكلما قل ما يُريده رضي بالقليل و قلت حاجته ، و أصبح في حالٍ أفضل .
هذا ما تفعله المدينة بك ؛ إنها تقلب أفكارك رأساً على عقب ، تجعلك ترغب بالحياة ، و في الوقت نفسه تحاول أن تنزع منك الحياة ، ولا مفر من هذا .
فإما أن تفعل أو لا تفعل . و إذا فعلت ، لن تستطيع أن تتأكد من قدرتك على القيام به في المرة التالية . و إذا لم تفعل ، فلن تفعل أبداً .
Translators are the shadow heroes of literature.
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