...what I enjoy in a narrative is not directly its content or even its structure, but rather the abrasions I impose upon the fine surface: I read on, I skip, I look up, I dip in again. Which has nothing to do with the deep laceration the text of bliss inflicts upon language itself, and not upon the simple temporality of its reading.
Roland BarthesOne day, quite some time ago, I happened on a photograph of Napoleonโs youngest brother, Jerome, taken in 1852. And I realized then, with an amazement I have not been able to lessen since: โI am looking at eyes that looked at the Emperor.โ Sometimes I would mention this amazement, but since no one seemed to share it, nor even to understand it (life consists of these little touches of solitude), I forgot about it.
Roland Barthes