Every artist is linked to a mistake with which he has a particular intimate relation. There is the mistake of Homer, of Shakespeare โ which is perhaps, for both, the fact of not existing. Every art draws its origin from an exceptional fault, every work is the implementation of this original fault, from which come to us a new light and a risky conception of plenitude.
Maurice BlanchotBut my silence is real. If I hid it from you, you would find it again a little farther on.
Maurice BlanchotThe Journal is not essentially a confession, a story about oneself. It is a Memorial. What does the writer have to remember? Himself, who he is when he is not writing, when he is living his daily life, when he is alive and real, and not dying and without truth.
Maurice BlanchotWe can never put enough distance between ourselves and what we love. To think that God is, is still to think of him as present; this is a thought according to our measure, destined only to console us. It is much more fitting to think that God is not, just as we must love him purely enough that we could be indifferent to the fact that he should not be. It is for this reason that the atheist is closer to God than the believer.
Maurice BlanchotThe disaster... is what escapes the very possibility of experienceโit is the limit of writing. This must be repeated: the disaster de-scribes.
Maurice BlanchotEvery artist is linked to a mistake with which he has a particular intimate relation. There is the mistake of Homer, of Shakespeare โ which is perhaps, for both, the fact of not existing. Every art draws its origin from an exceptional fault, every work is the implementation of this original fault, from which come to us a new light and a risky conception of plenitude.
Maurice BlanchotMy being subsists only from a supreme point of view which is precisely incompatible with my point of view. The perspective in which I fade away for my eyes restores me as a complete image for the unreal eye to which I deny all images. A complete image with reference to a world devoid of image which imagines me in the absence of any imaginable figure. The being of a nonbeing of which I am the infinitely small negation which it instigates as its profound harmony. In the night shall I become the universe?
Maurice Blanchot