We Must Be Still and Still Moving

Read the Printed Word!

And peace, disturbed for a moment by this agreeable exhilaration of space, spreads until it floods even the breathing of things. You walk with soft steps, as in a house where a corpse rests. You don’t even dare speak.

—Georges Rodenbach, “The Death Throes of Towns” in Bruges-la-Morte, trans. Will Stone (via proustitute)

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