“A thought written down is dead. It was alive. It lives no longer. It was a flower. Writing it down has made it artificial, that is to say, immutable.”
(Jules Renard, November 1888, p. 21 in The Journals of Jules Renard, ed. & trans. Louise Bogan & Elizabeth Roget.)
Pingback: ::: wood s lot ::: "the fitful tracing of a portal"