Last night I saw you in my dreams; now, I can't wait to go to sleep

We are no longer quite ourselves. As we step out of the house on a fine evening between four and six, we shed the self our friends know us by and become part of that vast republican army of anonymous trampers, whose society is so agreeable after the solitute of one's own room. For there we sit sourrounded by objects which perpetually express the oddity of our own temperaments and enforce the memories of our own experience.

Virginia Woolf, Street Haunting.

As every word passes i'm more and more convinced that Virginia Woolf is one of the greatest prose writers that have ever lived.

Un maestro que admiro leyó un artículo mal escrito sobre la exploción que hubo hace unos días. Escribió bastante pero lo más interesante (y tal vez resume todo) es este parrafo:

creo que cuando leí la nota anterior mi frustración y coraje se triplicó porque hoy en la mañana releí una de las ideas de Auden: “The social virtues of a real democracy are brotherhood and intelligence, and the parallel linguistic virtues are strenght and clarity”. si la idea de Auden es verdadera entonces como sociedad e individuos sí estamos mal y nuestra prensa es una muestra irrefutable de ello.

I am here for you,

My irreplaceable one,

anytime, anyplace,

A crazy ferret I shall

always

be.