August 2009
8 posts
From Remembrance of Things Past, after Swann hears a phrase of music that seems to hold everything sad and beautiful about his failed love:
“Perhaps it is not-being that is the true state, and all our dream of life is inexistent; but, if so, we feel that these phrases of music, these conceptions which exist in relation to our dream, must be nothing either. We shall perish, but we have as...
from "Autumn Refrain," Wallace Stevens
“The yellow moon of words about the nightingale
In measureless measures, not a bird for me
But the name of a bird and the name of a nameless air
I have never - never shall hear”
