Book: Metroland

marriage, life, fashion, sex do not believe in these new postulates. Before it was: not ***is on the side, because you'll be unhappy, and you'll catch syphilis, and infect his wife, and you have children-morons, like those of Strindberg or Ibsen, or anyone out there, can't remember. Now that sounds: ***is on the side, otherwise you'll die of boredom, and he becomes tedious and boring, and don't meet new, interesting people, and in the end becomes impotent with everyone but his beloved wife.

It all depends on what is meant by love. Where is the line between love and dislike? At what point je t'aime bien becomes je t'aime? The simple answer: you know, when you're in love because when you love someone, you have no doubt, you love or not - just as if you have a house fire, you know exactly what it fire. But here's the catch: when you're trying to describe a state of love, you inevitably fall into either tautology or a metaphor. When you're in love, you feel like you're going to fly... Or do you just think that it should feel the person who is going to fly? Or you convince yourself that you should feel as if I can fly?

I don't know... it seems to me that most people get married because they don't want to admit that they never loved enough to decide to link their lives with another person. It's a kind of perverse idealism, a desire to prove to yourself that you are capable of higher experiences.

But she was silent; I too was silent. Overall, this evolved into something more than normal awkward silences - silence in your conversation. It was a silent mutual agreement, combined with the utmost concentration on the other person; I had no idea that silence could be so sensual. The power of this silence came from his spontaneity. Whenever I subsequently tried to recreate this almost erotic silence, I could not.

How many devastated children twenty-one years old, the feelings which have already burnt to ashes; or, worse still, who worship money and pretend to be devastated presidendile themselves believe in this emptiness?! All the time going to extremes is silly and just ridiculous. The structure of all experience is based on contrast.

While we are very kind to the colors. It all started during the summer holidays when I went for a walk in the Park and brought a volume of Baudelaire. I read that, if you look at the sky through a straw, its color will be more rich and thick than if you look just.