5 Quotes by Danielle Collobert

I know that I too could try a story out, rebuild mine, make it live again several minutes before the full of the day, the sun, the city. But I haven't the strength, stupidly. I rise and carry on. One more time.

We are so small; and what must one hold on to when one no longer recognizes one's own hands, nor one's step, nor even the small dose of everyday despair.

for months no writing — impossible to reconcile the two — walk paying attention — I've lost sensation — closeness of the outside world around me — I'm not connecting with things any more — could be irreparable loss — trying now to recover sensations — objects for instance — the table's smoothness — its color — my hand on the paperit's raining — that helps me — I feel better — more differentiated from things — from the outside —blur already —

We are so small; and what must one hold on to when one no longer recognizes one’s own hands, nor one’s step, nor even the small dose of everyday despair.

I know that I too could try a story out, rebuild mine, make it live again several minutes before the full of the day, the sun, the city. But I haven’t the strength, stupidly. I rise and carry on. One more time.