Sunday, January 07, 2007


"Someone who writes books is either everything (a unique universe in himself and to all others) or nothing. And because it will never be given to anyone to be everything, all of us who write books are nothing. We are unrecongized, jealous, embittered, and we wish the others dead. In that we are all equals: Banaka, Bibi, I, and Goethe.

The irrisistible profliferation of graphomania among politcians, taxi drivers, childbearers, lovers, murderers, thieves, prositutes, officials, doctors, and patients shows me that everyone without exception bears a potential writer within him, so that the entire human species has good reason to go down into the streets and shout: "We are all writers!"

For everyone is pained by the thought of disappearing, unheard, and unseen, into an indifferent universe, and because of that everyohne wants, whild there is still time, to turn himself into a universe of words.

One morning (and it will be soon), when everyone wakes up as a writer, the age of universal deafness and incomprehension will have arrived"

Milan Kundera-The Book of Laughter and Forgetting


Blogger Grover said...


11:43 AM

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"Why is it we want so badly to memorialize ourselves? Even while we’re still alive. We wish to assert our existence, like dogs peeing on fire hydrants. We put on display our framed photographs, our parchment diplomas, our silver-plated cups; we monogram our linen, we carve our names on trees, we scrawl them on washroom walls. It’s all the same impulse. What do we get from it? Applause, envy, respect? Or simply attention, of any kind we can get?

"At the very least we want a witness. We can’t stand the idea of our own voices falling silent finally, like a radio winding down."

'The Blind Assassin', by Margaret Atwood


9:10 PM


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