On beginning. So I find words I never thought to speak In streets I never thought I should revisit When I left my body on a distant shore. T.S. Eliot, “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets (1942) The end is where we start from. T.S. Eliot, “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets … Continue reading And All Shall Be Well // T.S. Eliot
On time and regeneration. There will be no unique name, even if it were the name of Being. And we must think this without nostalgia, that is, outside of the myth of a purely maternal or paternal language, a lost native country of thought. On the contrary, we must affirm this, in the sense … Continue reading Apocryphal Fire // H.D.