«I am one person - myself. I do not
impersonate Catullus, whom I adore. I am the most slavish of students,
with here a dictionary, there a notebook in which I enter curious uses
of the past participle. But one cannot go on for ever cutting these
ancient inscriptions clearer with a knife. Shall I always draw the red
serge curtain close and see my book, laid like a block of marble, pale
under the lamp? That would be a glorious life, to addict oneself to
perfection; to follow the curve of the sentence wherever it might lead,
into deserts, under drifts of sand, regardless of lures, of seductions;
to be poor always and unkempt; to be ridiculous in Piccadilly.»
Virginia Woolf, The Waves
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário