Il bimbo ristette, lo sguardo era triste
e gli occhi guardavano cose mai viste.
E poi disse al vecchio con voce sognante
“Mi piaccion le fiabe, raccontane altre”.
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
“
| — | T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. (via brandnewleaves) |
Non è strano che quando sei libero di fare tutto quello che vuoi finisci col fare così poco? L’infinita possibilità di scelta sembra tradursi sistematicamente in nessuna scelta.
“
| — | J. Coe - Circolo Chiuso (via attraversoilvuoto) |
