The choice

I have felt so many times that the choice of this era is to be destroyed or to morally compromise ourselves in order to be functional—to be wrecked, or to be functional for reasons that contribute to the wreck.

Jia Tolentino, Tricky Mirror. 

Oh as casas as casas as casas

"Grava para sempre a alegria na fachada da tua casa." Estava escrito mesmo abaixo das telhas, num prédio ao lado do nosso.

Lourdes Castro numa entrevista.

Cortesía con todo lo que fue.

También me doy cuenta en este instante de que en mi vida no han sucedido grandes cosas, y sin embargo llevo dentro de mí un hondo sufrimiento. El dolor no es en absoluto un impedimento para la alegría, tal como yo entiendo el dolor, pues para mí está vinculado a la intensificación de la conciencia. El sufrimiento es una conciencia expandida que alcanza a todas las cosas que han sido y serán. Es una especie de amabilidad secreta con todas las cosas. Cortesía con todo lo que fue. Y de la amabilidad y la cortesía nace siempre la elegancia.

Es una forma de conciencia general. El sufrimiento es una mano tendida. Es amabilidad hacia los otros. Mientras sonreímos, por dentro desfallecemos. Si elegimos sonreír en vez de caernos muertos en medio de la calle es por elegancia, por ternura, por cortesía, por amor a los otros, por respeto a los otros.

Manuel Vilas, Ordesa. 

O talento necessário

In 1890, when Manet’s Olympia was accepted by the French state after fundraising by the chief Impressionists, Morisot concluded that ‘we’ve come a long way from the stupid jokes of yesterday.’ And it had taken only twenty years for the first-generation Impressionists themselves to become classics, and to be collected as such: in 1894, the year before her death, the French state bought its first Morisot, Woman at a Ball (1879). But in some ways, Mme Morisot had not been wrong: despite the praise of peers and of critics, Berthe did not have a great deal of ‘commercial value’ or ‘public recognition’ (though her guarded nature would not have welcomed the latter). She showed at seven of the eight Impressionist Exhibitions, and Durand-Ruel offered her work in Boston, New York and London. She created about 860 paintings. Yet it seems she only sold between 25 and 40 of them – Zola, Alfred Stevens, Monet and Chausson were among the purchasers – and gave away around 25 more. By the time of her death, three-quarters of her output remained with her family. And when the French state came to describe her on her death certificate, it wrote: ‘no profession’.

Julian Barnes, The Necessary Talent, aqui.