An abstract painting need in 50 years by no means look "abstract" any longer.
Marcel DuchampRead
It is curious to note how fragile the memory is, even for the important times in one's life. This is, moreover, what explains the fortunate fantasy of history.
Interpretation
Memory can be unreliable, even regarding significant life events, which contributes to the subjective nature of history.
This quote by Marcel Duchamp highlights the fragility of human memory, suggesting that even our most cherished and significant experiences may become distorted over time. It indicates that this inherent unreliability of memory contributes to the way history is perceived and recorded, often influenced by personal interpretations and emotional biases.
In practice
In a discussion about historical accuracy, you can emphasize the importance of understanding memory's limitations with this quote.
An abstract painting need in 50 years by no means look "abstract" any longer.
All this twaddle, the existence of God, atheism, determinism, liberation, societies, death, etc., are pieces of a chess game called language, and they are amusing only if one does not preoccupy oneself with 'winning or losing this game of chess.
I am still a victim of chess. It has all the beauty of art - and much more. It cannot be commercialized. Chess is much purer than art in its social position.
I never finished the 'Large Glass' because, after working on it for eight years, I probably got interested in something else; also, I was tired. It may be that, subconsciously, I never intended to finish it because the word 'finish' implies an acceptance of traditional methods and all the paraphernalia that accompany them.
It's a product of two poles - there's the pole of the one who makes the work, and the pole of the one who looks at it. I give the latter as much importance as the one who makes it.
I became a librarian at the Sainte-Genevieve Library in Paris. I made this gesture to rid myself of a certain milieu, a certain attitude, to have a clean conscience, but also to make a living. I was twenty-five. I had been told that one must make a living, and I believed it.
I believe that any man who takes the liberty of another into his keeping is bound to become a tyrant, and that any man who yields up his liberty, in however slight the measure, is bound to become a slave.
There is no harm in patience, and no profit in lamentation. Death is easier to bear (than) that which precedes it, and more severe than that which comes after it. Remember the death of the Apostle of God, and your sorrow will be lessened.
I felt like a Tinker toy kid building my own self out of one of those toy building sets; for as she laid her life before me, I reassembled the tableau of her words like a picture puzzle, and as I did, so my own life was rebuilt.
It is a truism to say that the dog is largely what his master makes of him: he can be savage and dangerous, untrustworthy, cringing and fearful; or he can be faithful and loyal, courageous and the best of companions and allies.
I suppose I could understand it if men had simply forgotten unicorns, but not to see them at all, to look at them and see something else β what do they look to one another, then? What do trees look like to them, or houses, or real horses, or their own children?
Lord free me of myself, so I can please you!
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