Enkidu 2008

'I used to pretend I was someone quite mysterious and fascinating. Then I grew up and realized I was mysterious and fascinating' --Sally Bowles (in Cabaret)

Walser 2009

26. Great is the power of memory. It is a true marvel, O my God, a profound and infinite multiplicity! And this is the mind, and this I myself am. What, then, am I, O my God? Of what nature am I? A life various, and manifold, and exceedingly vast. Behold in the numberless halls and caves, in the innumerable fields and dens and caverns of my memory, full without measure of numberless kinds of things--present there either through images as all bodies are; or present in the things themselves as are our thoughts; or by some notion or observation as our emotions are, which the memory retains even though the mind feels them no longer, as long as whatever is in the memory is also in the mind--through all these I run and fly to and fro. I penetrate into them on this side and that as far as I can and yet there is nowhere any end.

So great is the power of memory, so great the power of life in man whose life is mortal! What, then, shall I do, O thou my true life, my God? I will pass even beyond this power of mine that is called memory--I will pass beyond it, that I may come to thee, O lovely Light. And what art thou saying to me? See, I soar by my mind toward thee, who remainest above me. I will also pass beyond this power of mine that is called memory, desiring to reach thee where thou canst be reached, and wishing to cleave to thee where it is possible to cleave to thee. For even beasts and birds possess memory, or else they could never find their lairs and nests again, nor display many other things they know and do by habit. Indeed, they could not even form their habits except by their memories. I will therefore pass even beyond memory that I may reach Him who has differentiated me from the four-footed beasts and the fowls of the air by making me a wiser creature. Thus I will pass beyond memory; but where shall I find thee, who art the true Good and the steadfast Sweetness? But where shall I find thee? If I find thee without memory, then I shall have no memory of thee; and how could I find thee at all, if I do not remember thee? - Saint Augustine Confessions

Baffin 2007

6th.—Have been beset all day by natives. They pull the blossoms of the red gum tree (now in flower), steep them in water, and drink the water, which acquires a taste like sugar and water by this process. Some came here, bringing a young kangaroo dog of a fine breed. I had often (in my own mind) contemplated poisoning him. To my surprise, the natives called my attention suddenly to the dog, when I saw that some one had been beforehand with me. I told them all manner of stories about our dogs going mad, and that their bite was then fatal. They were greatly alarmed. I put my hand cautiously over his mouth, put him into the boat, and carried him to the other side of the river, where he soon died. They thought a snake had bit him. In the evening, there was a crying of natives at a distance. I ran with Weeip and some others to see. A number of strangers had arrived; the child of one had died, and they must have some spearing match about it. I begged them not to throw spears, but it appeared to be a very friendly or ceremonious transaction—some spears having been thrown harmlessly. After a little, it was mentioned to the owner of the dog that it had died—that his dog was dead by the bite of a snake. He had not been at my place before during the day, and had not heard of it till then. Instantly, there was a change of scene—he and his brother seized their spears, and seemed about to commence in good earnest, when others threw their arms round them and held them with difficulty. Angry feeling seemed to spread among them: the vengeance of these two seemed directed against a woman, whose husband was held also. When I left them, one of the natives was walking round and round this woman, while two had placed themselves on either side of her, and walked round in a circle, so as to keep one still between his spear and her. It was a strange sight. I asked Weeip what it meant. He said the owner was a little angry, and he would only spear her a little on the lower part of the leg. I have heard their voices very loud ever since. They will have troubled rest. All parties seemed to look upon me as a friend—though I confess I felt a little afraid at one time when they began to pronounce my name with great vehemence; it was in asserting that I had seen the dog die of snake bite. I held Mauli for a while, when he first snatched his spear, till another came to the rescue. One part of the scene was singular—the mother of the child that had died clung to the knees of one old man and uttered a long weeping recitative, while he stood apparently unmoved; at other times she threw herself on the bosom of another and wept out the same sort of droning song, which, from some detached words I caught, reminds me of the Irish keen, as a sort of address to the departed. It is ringing in my ears even now, while I write, at the distance of half a mile from them. - Diary of ten years eventful life of an early settler in Western Australia by George Fletcher Moore

Lash 2008

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to (Nico)

Auerbach 2008

Ein echter deutscher Mann mag keinen Franzen leiden,
Doch ihre Weine trinkt er gern. - Mephisto (Goethe Faust I. Teil)

Rousseau 2008

Villard de Honnecourt, in his 1230s sketchbook, show plans for animal automata and an angel that perpetually turns to face the sun.

Klossowski 2006

“il est delicieux, dans une infinite solitude au bord de la mer, sous un ciel brouillé, de porter son regard dans un désert d’eau sans limites. Encore faut-il être là-bas, et être devenu, alors que l’on voudrait passer de l’autre côté et qu’on ne ele peut pás, que lón est depourvu de tout pour vivre et que l’on perçoit neanmois la voix de cette vie dans les grondements des flots, le souffle de l’air, le passage dês nuages, le cri solitaire des oiseaux. Mais il faut pour cela une exigence de coeur, et cette dechirure, au plus profond de soi, que provoque la nature (…) Oui, si l’on peignait ce paysage avec se propre craie, avec sa propre eau, on pourrait, je crois, par la, pousser les renards et les loups à hurler.” Kleist, sur Caspar David Friedrich

Dias Loureiro 2008

"Não tenho culpa de ter nascido em Portugal, e exijo uma Pátria que me mereça" - Almada

Klopstock 2008

It is quite untrue that British people don't appreciate music. They may not understand it but they absolutely love the noise it makes. - Sir Thomas Beecham