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Quote by Georges Perec

Work

Les Choses

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Author

Georges Perec
Georges Perec

Georges Perec was a French novelist known for his unique narrative style and profound insights into everyday life. His works often explore themes of memory, identity, and reality, with his most famous works including 'Life: A User's Manual' and 'A Void'. more

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“Voilà à quoi tiennent, non seulement les développements physiques de toute une nation mais sa moralité, sa dignité, ses talents, son sens politique ! Ce n'est qu'une question de molécules...”

“« Nous ne sommes pas ce que nous désirons être. Nous sommes ce que la société exige. Nous sommes ce que nos parents ont choisi. Nous ne voulons décevoir personne, nous avons un immense besoin d'être aimés. Alors nous étouffons le meilleur de nous-mêmes. Bientôt, ce qui était la lumière de nos rêves devient le monstre de nos cauchemars. Ce sont les choses non réalisées, les possibles non vécus. »”

“Vous êtes saisis d'horreur parce que nous voulons abolir la propriété privée. Mais dans votre société la propriété privée est abolie pour les 9/10ème de ses membres. C'est précisément parce qu'elle n'existe par pour 9/10ème qu'elle existe pour vous. Vous nous reprochez donc de vouloir abolir une forme de la propriété qui ne peut constituer qu'à la condition de priver l'immense majorité de la société de toute propriété.”

“Anyway! Like a memory she does not travel, She just stays in the mind of everything, A feeling that is abysmal and at the same time makes you feel well, Almost like experiencing everything but feeling nothing, But her thoughts and her memories remain intact, A love affair of a different kind maybe, Where infinity is the witness and love that lasts for eternity is the pact, There is no other way for it to exist maybe, Or it could be my predilection towards her memories, That makes everything else less preeminent, And gradually one loses interest in all worldly stories, Because her thought is still fresh and omnipresent, Like a flower that you come to admire in Summer, And you wait for the seasons to pass by, To witness this flower again in the new Summer, There, anticipating and waiting you lie, Not for the Summer, but for the flower, And how unnecessary everything else seems, Almost like a desperate lover, Whose heart often her name screams, But the yearnings of heart are silent, And no matter how much it cries or screams everyday, It has no audience, except the helpless firmament, Where it is heard, but it can't do anything to help it anyway!”

“For we may remark generally of our mathematical researches, that these auxiliary quantities, these long and difficult calculations into which we are often drawn, are almost always proofs that we have not in the beginning considered the objects themselves so thoroughly and directly as their nature requires, since all is abridged and simplified, as soon as we place ourselves in a right point of view.”