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1 " I know that I too could try a story out, rebuild mine, make it live again several minutes before the full of the day, the sun, the city. But I haven't the strength, stupidly. I rise and carry on. One more time. "
― Danielle Collobert , Murder
2 " We are so small; and what must one hold on to when one no longer recognizes one's own hands, nor one's step, nor even the small dose of everyday despair. "
3 " how much time like thisit holds onhow much time restingis going to start up again --- knows it --- at the edge alreadythe first words are waiting --- speech being reborn --- hitch still looking for its post "
― Danielle Collobert , It Then
4 " agreement of body with inertiaagreement with emptinessweightlessness of timerest on the groundrecovered earth -- it crumbles -- it melts -- words penetrating the ground -- it dissolves -- loss of possessions -- loss of power -- like dead the buried text "
5 " for months no writing — impossible to reconcile the two — walk paying attention — I've lost sensation — closeness of the outside world around me — I'm not connecting with things any more — could be irreparable loss — trying now to recover sensations — objects for instance — the table's smoothness — its color — my hand on the paperit's raining — that helps me — I feel better — more differentiated from things — from the outside —blur already — "
― Danielle Collobert , Notebooks, 1956-1978
