Friday, March 12, 2010

merely a question of life...

"When it is a question of writing, one is scrupulous, one examines things meticulously, one rejects all that is not truth. But when it is merely a question of life, one ruins oneself, makes oneself ill, kills oneself all for lies. It is true that these lies are a reservoir from which, if one has passed the age for writing poetry, one can at least extract a little truth." - Marcel Proust

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