What could be worse than another person's happiness? Not that his unhappiness would make us happy, but we need it in order to bear our own.
Hansjörg SchertenleibHis shadow stretched out across the asphalt, a man on his way to make good an old wrong, his shadow, the dark doppelganger with stilts for legs, sliced in two by the streetcar tracks.
Hansjörg SchertenleibThere's a kind of knowledge that stows away in our subconscious. We don't notice it because it's practiced at staying concealed as it travels along with us. A knowledge that must stay hidden because it would destroy us.
Hansjörg SchertenleibShriveled apple cores stood side by side on the window sill, a long row of them with their seed chambers bitten open and the pointed sees scattered on the floor. The brown, discolored remnants of their flesh bore the imprint of his grandfather's teeth. That was the image This was left with, the one that ever since was the first to recur when he thought of his dead grandfather: shriveled apple cores on the sill of a window that looked out onto an overgrown garden.
Hansjörg SchertenleibMots clés death descriptive
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