sarraute-motionless

She did not move. And about her the entire house, the street, seemed to encourage her, seemed to consider this motionlessness natural.

Thought:

“Thou, who dost know what way swift words are crossed
O thou, who hast sung till none at song defeat thee,
Grant! by thy might and hers of San Michele,
Thy risen voice send flames this pentecost.”

Ezra Pound | “To Guido Cavalcanti”

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