The Book of Disquiet (Penguin Modern Classics)

I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a relationship with its own insane internal logic, where both people say and do things that make sense only within the contained narrative world they’ve created with each other. Sometimes I fear that my life consists of nothing as so much as a series of these worlds, bubbles where normal logic is suspended.

“Sure. For the majority of people, what they love exists only in the imagination. The object of their love is not the man or woman of reality, but what he or she is like in their imagination. The person in reality is just a template used for the creation of this dream lover. Eventually, they find out the differences between their dream lover and th

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Men and women have always had difficulty with the way a love returned hardly ever resembles a love given, but unrequited love may be the form that love mostly takes; for what affection is ever returned over time in the same measure or quality with which it is given? Every man or woman loves differently and uniquely and each of us holds different dr

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Later I stopped writing a little while ago, because I heard a noise at the door, as if someone were inserting the key in the lock. Caught unawares, I didn’t know where to put the notebook. I looked around, but all the furniture appeared to be of glass, transparent. Wherever I might hide it, the notebook would be visible. I turned this way and that,

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