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carpet beating that came in at the window with the moist air on rainy days and
engraved itself more indelibly in the child's memory than the voice of the beloved
in that of the man, the carpet beating that was the language of the nether world, ...
It bore no resemblance to the one in Weimar. Above all, it was very small and had
only one window. The side of the writing desk abutted on the wall opposite the
window. Sitting and writing at it was the poet, in extreme old age. I was standing ...
I hesitated before taking wine. It was a half bottle of Cassis. A piece of ice was
floating in the glass. Yet it went excellently with my drug. I had chosen my seat on
account of the open window, through which I could look down on the dark square
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We can remark in passing that there is no better starting point for thought than laughter. In particular, thought usually has a better chance when one is shaken by laughter than when one’s mind is ... Vollständige Rezension lesen
A Berlin Chronicle
OneWay Street selection
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Reflections: Essays, Aphorisms, Autobiographical Writings
Eingeschränkte Leseprobe - 2019