The Floating Library

The Library is Open…

Menu

Skip to content

Home
About Your Host
Averno
Dreamtigers
Reference
Rilke
- A Year with Rilke
  - January
  - February
  - March
  - April
  - May
  - June
  - July
  - August
  - September
- Poems from the Book of Hours

July 20, 2009 by Sineokov

Some have misfortunes; others, obsessions. Which are worse off?

— E. M. Cioran, The Trouble With Being Born

Rate this:

Share this:

Email
Facebook
X
Reddit
Print

Like Loading...

Related

This entry was posted in Quotes and tagged Quotes. Bookmark the permalink.

Post navigation

← Demonic deliverance

before stooping to a name →

Leave a comment Cancel reply

Δ

Search

Search

In all the edifice of thought, I have found no category on which to rest my head. . . .

- E. M. Cioran

Top Entries

Kenyon Commencement Speech – 2005 – David Foster Wallace
Harold Bloom's Recommended Poems
On Natural Death :: Lewis Thomas

'Self-knowledge'? A contradiction in terms.

- E. M. Cioran

. . . feast on ancient books to the lazy enchanting lap of wavelets in the Floating Library, in memoriam of Dr. Sineokov, who had drowned at just that spot in the city river. The grinding of chains, the little gallery with its orange-colored lamp shades, the plash, the water's smooth surface oiled by the moon, and, in the distance, lights flickering past in the black web of a lofty bridge . . .

- Vladimir Nabokov

Recent Comments

	A disaster like this… on Averno :: Louise Glück
	March Round-Up… on Borges and I :: Frank Bid…
	Anonymous on What will you do, God, when I…
	Oppenheimer: Take in… on Modern Fiction :: Virginia…
	My friend the earth… on October :: Louise Glück

I have at this moment so many fundamental thoughts, so many truly metaphysical things to say, that I suddenly get tired and decide not to write any more, not to think any more, but to allow the fever of speaking to make me sleepy, and with my eyes closed, like a cat, I play with everything I could have said.

- Bernardo Soares

Raison d’être

There they are, in my own handwriting: the words that have been my prayer, evening after evening. I copied them from the books I found them in, so that they would be right in front of me, issued from my hand as if they were my own words. And now I want to write them again, kneeling here before my tablet I want to write them; for in this way I can have them with me longer than when I read them, and every word will last and have time to echo and fade away.

- R. M. Rilke

Blog at WordPress.com.

Comment
Reblog
Subscribe Subscribed
- The Floating Library
- Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.

%d