...those who had risked everything at a riverbend on a left turn and so discovered a fortune.
Michael OndaatjeIn my work I sometimes borrow Claire's nature, as well as her careful focus on the world.
Michael OndaatjeWe die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have plunged into and swum up as if rivers of wisdom, characters we have climbed into as if trees, fears we have hidden in as if caves. I wish for all this to be marked on my body when I am dead.
Michael OndaatjeKirpal’s left hand swoops down and catches the dropped fork an inch from the floor and gently passes it into the fingers of his daughter, a wrinkle at the edge of his eyes behind his spectacles.
Michael OndaatjeFor we live with those retrievals from childhood that coalesce and echo throughout our lives, the way shattered pieces of glass in a kaleidoscope reappear in new forms and are songlike in their refrains and rhymes, making up a single monologue. We live permanently in the recurrence of our own stories, whatever story we tell.
Michael OndaatjeMots clés life
But there was a discipline, it was just that we didn't understand. We thought he was formless, but I think now he was tormented by order, what was outside it. He tore apart the plot - see his music was immediately on top of his own life. Echoing. As if, when he was playing he was lost and hunting for the right accidental notes. Listening to him was like talking to Coleman. You were both changing direction with every sentence, sometimes in the middle, using each other as a springboard through the dark. You were moving so fast it was unimportant to finish and clear everything. He would be describing something in 27 ways. There was pain and gentleness everything jammed into each number.
Michael OndaatjeMots clés music
Here. Where I am anonymous and alone in a white room with no history and no parading. So I can make something unknown in the shape of this room. Where I am King of Corners.
Michael OndaatjeThis last night we tear into each other, as if to wound, as if to find the key to everything before morning.
Michael OndaatjeMots clés love sex inevitability
Every night I cut out my heart. But in the morning it was full again
Michael OndaatjeMots clés heart
From this point on, she whispered, we will either find or lose our souls.
Michael Ondaatje« ; premier précédent
Page 5 de 20.
suivant dernier » ;
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.