"Ti torna in mente una frase letta anni fa: non guardate indietro, ci siete già stati. Allora ti era parsa uno spunto arguto. Magari un po' new age, ma arguto. Adesso ti chiedi se poi è vero che ci siamo già stati. Non sei così sicuro, non lo sai bene cosa c'è da quelle parti."
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| Amedeo Modigliani, Ritratto di Jeanne Hébuterne, 1919 |
See more in a truth than the truth's simple self,
Confuse themselves. You see lads walk the street
Sixty the minute; what's to note in that?
You see one lad o'erstride a chimney-stack;
Him you must watch--he's sure to fall, yet stands!
Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things.
The honest thief, the tender murderer,
The superstitious atheist, demirep
That loves and saves her soul in new French books--
We watch while these in equilibrium keep
The giddy line midway: one step aside,
They're classed and done with. I, then, keep the line
Before your sages,--just the men to shrink
From the gross weights, coarse scales and labels broad
You offer their refinement. Fool or knave?
Why needs a bishop be a fool or knave
When there's a thousand diamond weights between?
So, I enlist them. Your picked twelve, you'll find,
Profess themselves indignant, scandalized
At thus being held unable to explain
How a superior man who disbelieves
May not believe as well: that's Schelling's way!
It's through my coming in the tail of time,
Nicking the minute with a happy tact.
Had I been born three hundred years ago
Robert Browning, Bishop Blougram's Apology
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