In the end, however, nothing else was left for him to do since to his horror he observed that in moving backwards he could not even control the direction he took;

Franz Kafka

I was about to tell him he was wrong to dwell on it, because it really didn’t matter.

The Stranger

Camus

the
shell
must
break
before
the bird
can fly

-tennyson

He resigned everything infinitely, and then took everything back on the strength of the absurd.

Kierkegaard

The water’s so cold!
But let’s not worry!
It’s too late now.
It will always be too late. Fortunately!

Camus

The truth is I don’t make much distinction between the drawings that I do for children and the ones I do for grown-ups. To me, it’s all just drawing.

As if that blind rage had washed me clean, rid me of hope; for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world.

Camus

; and the eyes of men love to cull the bloom of youth, but they turn aside from the old.

Deianeira

via

SOPHOCHLES

It may almost be a question whether such wisdom as
many of us have in our mature years has not come from
the dying out of the power of temptation, rather than
as the results of thought and resolution.

ANTHONY TROLLOPE

1815-1882

ch. 14

Where are the angels and trumpets?

Buried beneath some snow-deep Alps.
Over buttered scones and crumpets
Weeping, weeping multitudes
Droop in a hundred A.B.C.’s.

ELIOT

We have heard the chimes at midnight.

Henry IV, part 2

SHAKESPEARE

I remember the way we parted,
The day and the way we met;
You hoped we were both broken-hearted,
And knew we should both forget.

An Interlude

SWINBURNE

1837-1909

In the faces of men and women I see God, and in my
own face in the glass,
I find letters from God dropt in the street, and every
one is sign’d by God’s name,
And I leave them where they are, for I know that
wheresoe’er I go,
Others will punctually come for ever and ever.

WALT WHITMAN

1819-1892

While sense lingered he clasped the maiden to his faint embrace, and as he gasped sent forth on her pale cheek the swift stream of his oozing blood.

Sophocles

I have seen flowers come in stony places
And kind things done by men with ugly faces,
And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races,
So I trust, too.

An Epilogue

JOHN MASEFIELD

1878-1967

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