What a sad story, I thought for so long. Not that I now think it was happy. But I think it is true, and thus the question of whether it is sad or happy has no meaning whatever.
Când ne deschidemtu mie şi eu ţie,când ne scufundămtu în mine şi eu în tine,când ne pierdemtu în mine şi eu în tine,Abia atuncieu sunt euşi tu eşti tu.
We make our own truths and lies….Truths are often lies and lies truths…
Is this what sadness is all about? Is it what comes over us when beautiful memories shatter in hindsight because the remembered happiness fed not just on actual circumstances but on a promise that was not kept?
Is that what makes me sad? The eagerness and belief that filled me then and exacted a pledge from life that life could never fulfill?
What is law? Is it what is on the books, or what is actually enacted and obeyed in a society? Or is law what must be enacted and obeyed, whether or not it is on the books, if things are to go right?
It is as if people refused to leave their dead alone, forced them back into the light, made them keep their composure even in death.
why does what was beautiful shatter in hindsight because it concealed dark truths?
But the finger I pointed at her turned back to me. I had loved her. Not only had I loved her, I had chosen her.
The Odyssey is the story of motion both purposeful and purposeless, successful and futile. What else is the history of law?
I can’t say I’m thankful about being German because I sometimes experience it as a huge burden. But it is an integral part of me and I wouldn’t want to escape it. I have accepted it.