Non mi sforzerò di scrivere qualcosa di intelligente o toccante. Non ho niente da dare, io, non sono niente, io.
 INTERVIEWER
 When in your life were you happy?
 CÉLINE
 Bloody well never, I think. Because what you need, getting old . . . I think if I were given a lot of dough to be free from want—I'd love that—it'd give me the chance to retire and go off somewhere, so I'd not have to work, and be able to watch others. Happiness would be to be alone at the seaside, and then be left in peace. And to eat very little; yes. Almost nothing. A candle. I wouldn't live with electricity and things. A candle! A candle, and then I'd read the newspaper. Others, I see them agitated, above all excited by ambitions; their life's a show, the rich swapping invitations to keep up with the performance. I've seen it, I lived among society people once—“I say, Gontran, hear what he said to you; oh, Gaston, you really were on form yesterday, eh! Told him what was what, eh! He told me about it again last night! His wife was saying, oh, Gaston surprised us!” It's a comedy. They spend their time at it. Chasing each other round, meeting at the same golf clubs, the same restaurants.
"Mi manca chiunque. Ricordo quando ero giovane e avvertivo una sensazione e la identificavo come nostalgia di casa, e poi pensavo che era proprio strano, visto che a casa ci vivevo. Che diavolo di conclusione trarre da tutto questo?”
— David Foster Wallace, La scopa del sistema (via brokenflowers)
"…per me c’è un vuoto nel cosmo
un vuoto nel cosmo
e da là tu canti.”
— Pier Paolo Pasolini, dedicata a Maria Callas (via dreams-in-my-sky)
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