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Quote by Louis-Ferdinand Céline

“I was in full digression! far from the subject!...my colonel was losing track...rapidly, of my story! my story!...my own story!...the gifts that I had personally received from Heaven!...yet I had insisted, every time! truly extraordinary gifts!...I'd made him repeat them a hundred times!...enough so he'd remember! that I was the only true genius! the century's only writer! the proof: that no one ever spoke of me!...everyone was jealous! Nobel! no Nobel! they had all joined forces to have me executed!...they could just go fuck off!...drop dead! since it was a question of death between me and them! I'll send their readers packing! all their readers! I'll make the public grow sick of their books! cabal! no cabal! since there was no room for two styles!...it was mine or theirs!...crawl or breastroke!...you understand!...the only inventor of the century! is me! me! me right here! the only genius, you might say! damned or not!...”

Quote by Louis-Ferdinand Céline

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Conversations with Professor Y

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Louis-Ferdinand Céline

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“The shame-based person is nearly always enmeshed in some way with one or more people. While we are in a dysfunctional, shame-based relationship, we may feel like we are losing our mind, going crazy. When we try to test reality, we are unable to trust our senses, our feelings and our reactions.”

“— È vero, — disse lei — che l’Inghilterra è come un sogno? Me l’ha scritto una mia amica che ha sposato un inglese. Ha detto che quella città, Londra, a volte è come un sogno cupo e freddo. Io voglio stare sveglia.— Be’, — risposi seccato — la tua bella isola a me fa proprio lo stesso effetto, del tutto irreale e come un sogno. — Ma come possono essere irreali i fiumi, le montagne e il mare? — E come possono essere irreali milioni di persone, le loro case e le loro strade? — Questo è più facile, — disse lei — molto più facile. Sì, una grande città dev’essere come un sogno. «No,» pensai «è questo ad essere irreale e come un sogno».”

“Which one hadn't he walked down? Was it Barkovitch? Collie Parker? Percy What'shisname? Who was it? 'GARRATY!' the crowd screamed deliriously. 'GARRATY, GARRATY, GARRATY!' Was it Scramm? Gribble? Davidson? A hand on his shoulder. Garraty shook it off impatiently. The dark figure beckoned, beckoned in the rain, beckoned for him to come and walk, to come and play the game. And it was time to get started. There was still so far to walk.”