It is as if I had completely lost the ability to bring within reach the conditions that can help me; when I grasp at any, there are new aggravations and evasions, the days pass by, and with them who knows how much life. Shouldn’t one invent some grotesque figure just in order finally to introduce the sentence: ‘He spent the last six or seven years fastening a coat button that kept coming undone’?
Rilke, May 16, 1911. (via time immemorial)
