Science is history arranged according to the superstition and taste of the moment. The vocabulary of scholars has no wit, no salt. These heavy tomes have no soul, they are filled with distress.
Blaise CendrarsRead
My poor life This shawl Frayed on strongboxes full of gold I roll along with Dream And smoke And the only flame in the universe
Interpretation
The quote reflects the struggles and dreams of life amidst material wealth.
In this quote, Blaise Cendrars expresses a complex relationship with life, contrasting the tangible wealth represented by 'strongboxes full of gold' with the intangible experiences of dreaming and smoking. The 'frayed shawl' symbolizes the wear and tear of life, suggesting that despite any material possessions, the essence of existence is rooted in dreams and transient moments, hinting at a deeper yearning for meaning beyond the surface of wealth.
In practice
In a speech about finding meaning in life, one might say, 'As Cendrars suggests, our dreams are the true wealth we carry.'
Science is history arranged according to the superstition and taste of the moment. The vocabulary of scholars has no wit, no salt. These heavy tomes have no soul, they are filled with distress.
Writing is to descend like a miner to the depths of the mine with a lamp on your forehead, a light whose dubious brightness falsifies everything, whose wick is in permanent danger of explosion, whose blinking illumination in the coal dust exhausts and corrodes your eyes.
Only a soul full of despair can ever attain serenity and, to be in despair, you must have loved a good deal and still love the world.
I'm not an extraordinary worker, I'm an extraordinary daydreamer. I exceed all my fantasies-even that of writing.
One's life, from being an exterior thing, grows inwards. Its intensity stays the same; and, d'you know, it's most mysterious, the corners in which the joy of living can sometimes hide away.
One sad thing about this world is that the acts that take the most out of you are usually the ones that people will never know about. (from 'Celestial Navigation')
Learn to respect this sacred moment of birth, as fragile, as fleeting, as elusive as dawn.
When doctors tell you that you have three weeks to live, you try to live a lifetime of moments in three weeks. But you say, 'To hell with three weeks.'
Me, Polly Garter, under the washing line, giving the breast in the garden to my bonny new baby. Nothing grows in our garden, only washing. And babies. And where's their fathers live, my love? Over the hills and far away. You're looking up at me now. I know what you're thinking, you poor little milky creature. You're thinking, you're no better than you should be, Polly, and that's good enough for me. Oh, isn't life a terrible thing, thank God?
No one escapes from a war. No one. Not even the survivors. You accept things that would appall you at any other time because life has temporarily lost all meaning.
Nobody’s going to save you. No one’s going to cut you down, cut the thorns thick around you. No one’s going to storm the castle walls nor kiss awake your birth, climb down your hair, nor mount you onto the white steed. There is no one who will feed the yearning. Face it. You will have to do, do it yourself.
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