Who knows for what supreme forces –
gods or demons of Truth in whose shadow we roam – I may be nothing
but a shiny fly that alights in front of them for a moment or two? A
facile hypothesis? Trite observation? Philosophy with no real
thought? Maybe. But I didn't think: I felt. It was carnally,
directly, with profound and dark horror that I made this ludicrous
comparison.
Fernando Pessoa
The Book of Disquiet
translation: Richard Zenith
p. 281
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.