Monday, July 2, 2012


I tried to write something earlier about the way I feel my relationships with other people have always functioned, but this says it better than I ever could:

"She looks at herself instead of looking at you, and so doesn't know you. During the two or three little outbursts of passion she has allowed herself in your favor, she has, by a great effort of imagination, seen in you the hero of her dreams, and not yourself as you really are."

Le Rouge et le Noir (1830)

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