Esto se aplica muy bien a mi estado actual:
"I seem to have lost all sense of style and yet I am haunted, mercilessly haunted by the necessity of style. And that story I can't write weaves itself into all I see, into all I speak, into all I think, into the lines of every book I try to read. I haven't read for days. You know how bad it is when one feels one's liver, or lungs. Well I feel my brain. I am distinctly conscious of the contents of my head. My story is there in a fluid--in an evading shape. I can't get hold of it. It is all there--to bursting, yet I can't get hold of it no more than you can grasp a handful of water" Letters from Joseph Conrad, 1895-1924 , Ed. Edward Garnett (1928)
Citado por Edward W. Said en Beginnings: Intention and Method (233)
jueves, octubre 23, 2008
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