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...the Darkness Does Not Lift But Becomes Yet Heavier As I Think How Little We Can Hold In Mind, How Everything Is Constantly Lapsing Into Oblivion With Every Extinguished Life, How The World Is, As It Were, Draining Itself, In That The History Of Countless Places And Objects Which Themselves Have No Power Or Memory Is Never Heard, Never Described Or Passed On.

-W. G. Sebald

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...the Darkness Does Not

W. G. Sebald

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...the Darkness Does Not Lift But Becomes Yet Heavier As I Think How Little We Can Hold In Mind, How Everything Is Constantly Lapsing Into Oblivion With Every Extinguished Life, How The World Is, As It Were, Draining Itself, In That The History Of Countless Places And Objects Which Themselves Have No Power Or Memory Is Never Heard, Never Described Or Passed On.

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And So They Are Ever Returning To Us, The Dead. At Times They Come Back From The Ice More Than Seven Decades Later And Are Found At The Edge Of The Moraine, A Few Polished Bones And A Pair Of Hobnailed Boots.

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Like Our Bodies And Like Our Desires, The Machines We Have Devised Are Possessed Of A Heart Which Is Slowly Reduced To Embers.

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...the Darkness Does Not Lift But Becomes Yet Heavier As I Think How Little We Can Hold In Mind, How Everything Is Constantly Lapsing Into Oblivion With Every Extinguished Life, How The World Is, As It Were, Draining Itself, In That The History Of Countless Places And Objects Which Themselves Have No Power Or Memory Is Never Heard, Never Described Or Passed On.

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Black And White

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