I lived, untouchable, in the chanted solitude of my being.
— Abdelkebir Khatibi, Tattooed Memory, transl by Peter Thompson, (2016)

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I lived, untouchable, in the chanted solitude of my being.
— Abdelkebir Khatibi, Tattooed Memory, transl by Peter Thompson, (2016)
The cruelty of desire.
— ABDELKEBIR KHATIBI ⚜️ Tattooed Memory, transl. by Peter Thompson, (2016)
I saw her as a cross between fleeing time and the surprises of innocence. She lived and slept in silence.
— Abdelkebir Khatibi, Tattooed Memory, transl by Peter Thompson, (2016)
Say: I am dying of mad passion and I’ve lost the veil, trying to reach passion’s wings; say: my pen flies away at the shock of the sand ruins, and may the earth tremble!
— ABDELKEBIR KHATIBI ⚜️ Tattooed Memory, transl. by Peter Thompson, (2016)
I wrote because it was the only way to disappear from the world, to pull back from chaos, to hone myself for solitude. I believed in the fate of the dead, so why not wed myself to the cycle of my own eternity?
— Abdelkebir Khatibi, Tattooed Memory, transl by Peter Thompson, (2016)
The void invades me, memory vanishes, lightning flash of a definitive immobility.
— Abdelkebir Khatibi, Tattooed Memory, transl by Peter Thompson, (2016)
Poetry: my criminal lands where my wound carved itself.
— ABDELKEBIR KHATIBI ⚜️ Tattooed Memory, transl. by Peter Thompson, (2016)
Worse than an unexpected knife: abduction of the mind.
— ABDELKEBIR KHATIBI ⚜️ Tattooed Memory, transl. by Peter Thompson, (2016)