We are born to exist, not to know, to be, not to assert ourselves.
Word - that invisible dagger.
An existence transfigured by failure.
To act is to anchor in an imminent future, so imminent it becomes almost tangible; to act is to feel you are consubstantial with that future.
What strangely enchanted tunes gush forth during those sleepless nights!
What would be left of our tragedies if an insect were to present us his?