en de verveling niet de ware tegenstander in het bestaan bleek te zijn
seen from Russia
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seen from United States
en de verveling niet de ware tegenstander in het bestaan bleek te zijn
It occurred to me last night that I know a lot, but that I just don't know enough to know it yet.
Ik moet schrijven rekenen tot een wezelijk deel van mijn manier van omgaan met het leven. Ik ben echter een tamelijk derivatief dichter. Ik leer wat ik kan en wie ik kan. Ik leen ook teksten van anderen, omdat ik ze serieus neem. Lezen maakt deel uit van mijn totaalervaring en ik baseer de meeste van mijn gedichten op mijn ervaring. Ik verontschuldig me er niet voor omdat ik 'leen' van anderen. het is nooit mijn grootste interesse geweest om een unieke poëtische persoonlijkheid te ontwikkelen en ik geniet van Eliots prachtige opmerking dat kunst de ontsnapping van de persoonlijkheid is.
Een tikje ongeduldig dacht ik: 'die vrouwen ook met hun vrouwengeheimen'.
Maar je went eraan dat het niet went.
Because everyone I most honour is silent - Nessa, Lytton, Leonard, Maynard: all silent; and so I hav etrained myself to silence, induced to it also by the terror I have of my own unlimited capacity for feeling - when Lytton seemed to be dying - well yes: I cant go into that, even now. But to my surprise, as time went on, I found that you are perhaps the only person I know who shows feeling and feels. Still I cant imagine talking about my love for people, as you do. Is it training? Is it the perpetual fear I have of the unknown force that lurks just under the floor? I never cease to feel that I must step very lightly on top of that volcano. No Ethel, there's a mint of things about me, I say egoistically, you've no notion of; the strength of my feelings is only one ....
Zo gaat het goed, klets maar door.
"You look familiar. Have I sold you a car?" Eve thought of her departmental issue, its sad pea-green finish and blocky style. "No." "You really look-- Oh!" Lana lit up like a Christmas tree. "Sure, sure, you're Roarke's wife. Roarke's cop wife. I've seen you on screen. Word is he's got an extensive collection of vehicles. Where does he deal?" "Wherever he wants," Eve said shortly, and Lana let out a gay laugh. "Oh, I'm sure he does. I'd absolutely love to show him our brand-new Barbarian. It won't be on the market for another three months, but I can arrange a private showing. If you'd just give him my card, Mrs. Roarke, I'll be--" "You see this?" Eve took her badge out again, all but pushed it into Lana's pert nose. "It says 'Dallas.' Lieutenant Dallas. I'm not here to liaison your next commission. This is an official investigation. Give me the damn data."
J.D. Robb, Midnight in Death