Book: Molloy
Quotes of Book: Molloy
{I}f you set out to mention everything you would never be done, and that's what counts, to be done, to have done. Oh, I know, even when you mention only a few of the things there are you do not get done either, I know, I know. But it's a change of muck. And if all muck is the same muck that doesn't matter, it's good to have a change of muck, to move from one heap to another, from time to time, fluttering you might say, like a butterfly, as if you were ephemeral. book-quotelifemeaningstorytellingMorning is the time to hide. They wake up, hale and hearty, their tongues hanging out for order, beauty and justice, baying for their due. Yes, from eight or nine till noon is the dangerous time. But towards noon things quiet down, the most implacable are sated, they go home, it might have been better but they've done a good job, there have been a few survivors but they'll give no more trouble, each man counts his rats. book-quotethe-morningPerhaps things have changed since. So all I know is that it was much the same weather when I left as when I came, so far as I was capable of knowing what the weather was. And I had been under the weather so long, under all weathers, that I could tell quite well between them, my body could tell between them and seemed even to have its likes, its dislikes. I think I stayed in several rooms one after the other, or alternately, I don't know. In my head there are several windows, that I do know, but perhaps it is always the same one, open variously on the parading universe. The house was fixed, that is perhaps what I mean by these different rooms. House and garden were fixed, thanks to some unknown mechanism of compensation, and I, when I stayed still, as I did most of the time, was fixed too, and when I moved, from place to place, it was very slowly, as in a cage out of time, as the saying is, in the jargon of the schools, and out of space too to be sure. For to be out of one and not out of the other was for cleverer than me, who was not clever, but foolish. But I may be quite wrong. And these different windows that open in my head, when I grope again among those days, really existed perhaps and perhaps do still, in spite of my being no longer there, I mean there looking at them, opening them and shutting them, or crouched in a corner of the room marvelling at the things they framed. book-quotePerhaps things have changed since. So all I know is that it was much the sameweather when I left as when I came, so far as I was capable of knowing what the weather was. And I had been under the weather so long, under allweathers, that I could tell quite well between them, my body could tell between them and seemed even to have its likes, its dislikes. I think I stayed inseveral rooms one after the other, or alternately, I don't know. In my head there are several windows, that I do know, but perhaps it is always the same one,open variously on the parading universe. The house was fixed, that is perhaps what I mean by these different rooms. House and garden were fixed,thanks to some unknown mechanism of compensation, and I, when I stayed still, as I did most of the time, was fixed too, and when I moved, from place toplace, it was very slowly, as in a cage out of time, as the saying is, in the jargon of the schools, and out of space too to be sure. For to be out of one andnot out of the other was for cleverer than me, who was not clever, but foolish. But I may be quite wrong. And these different windows that open in my head,when I grope again among those days, really existed perhaps and perhaps do still, in spite of my being no longer there, I mean there looking at them,opening them and shutting them, or crouched in a corner of the room marvelling at the things they framed. book-quote
