Tomorrow I must begin a new life (Wladyslaw Szpilman)

I stopped for a lttle rest, to draw breath. I looked over to the north of the city, where the ghetto had been, where half a million Jews had been murdered - there was nothing left of it. The Germans had flattened even the walls of the burnt-out buildings.

Tomorrow I must begin a new life. How could I do it with nothing but death behind me? What vital energy could I draw from death?

I went on my way. A stormy wind rattled the scrap-iron in the ruins, whistling and howling through the charred cavities of the windows. Twilight came on. Snow fell from the darkening, leaden sky.

Wladyslaw Szpilman (In The Pianist)

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He's the only Frank Zappa I knew (Captain Beefheart)

R.I.P. Peter Joyce

What connection can there have been between many people in the innumerable histories of this world, who, from opposite sides of great gulfs, have, nevertheless, been very curiously brought together! Charles Dickens (in Bleak House )

That's about right: a little, no more (Michel Houellebecq)

Photo by Rupert Britton on Unsplash When all's said and done, the idea of the uniqueness of the individual is nothing more than pompous absurdity. We remember our lives, Schopenhauer wrote somewhere, a little better than a novel we once read. Michel Houellebecq (in Platform )

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