Only those who know the meaning that they will give to the catastrophe retain calmness and precision in their movements. By the type and the proportions of panic to which a spirit allows itself to go, one can tell one’s rank.
He no longer saw the future before him, and the past,
in spite of all his efforts to find it explicable, resembled something of the incomprehensible. Justifications left in pieces, and the feeling of pleasure seemed
to exhaust itself more each day. Journeys and long
walks, which had formerly given him a mysterious
joy, had become strangely horrible for him. […] He
was neither truly without homeland, nor honestly
and naturally at home in any place, wherever in the
world it might be. He would have liked very much
to be an organ player, or a beggar, or a cripple, for to
have some reason to invoke the pity and the charity
of men, but still more ardently he wished to die. He
was not dead, and yet…
TIQQUN: THEORY OF BLOOM
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