Chris Via

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Book cover for Shakespeare's Sonnets
When forty winters shall besiege thy brow,   And dig deep trenches in thy beauty's field,   Thy youth's proud livery so gazed on now,   Will be a tatter'd weed of small worth held:
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Franz Kafka
“I think we ought to read only the kind of books that wound or stab us. If the book we're reading doesn't wake us up with a blow to the head, what are we reading for? So that it will make us happy, as you write? Good Lord, we would be happy precisely if we had no books, and the kind of books that make us happy are the kind we could write ourselves if we had to. But we need books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the axe for the frozen sea within us. That is my belief.”
Franz Kafka

Voltaire
“In the beginning God created man in His own image, and man has been trying to repay the favor ever since.”
Voltaire

Friedrich Nietzsche
“One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.”
Friedrich Nietzsche

Georges Perec
“To write: to try meticulously to retain something, to cause something to survive; to wrest a few precise scraps from the void as it grows, to leave somewhere a furrow, a trace, a mark or a few signs.”
Georges Perec, Species of Spaces and Other Pieces

Georges Perec
“As the hours, the days, the weeks, the seasons slip by, you detach yourself from everything. You discover, with something that sometimes almost resembles exhilaration, that you are free. That nothing is weighing you down, nothing pleases or displeases you. You find, in this life exempt from wear and tear and with no thrill in it other than these suspended moments, in almost perfect happiness, fascinating, occasionally swollen by new emotions. You are living in a blessed parenthesis, in a vacuum full of promise, and from which you expect nothing. You are invisible, limpid, transparent. You no longer exist. Across the passing hours, the succession of days, the procession of the seasons, the flow of time, you survive without joy and without sadness. Without a future and without a past. Just like that: simply, self evidently, like a drop of water forming on a drinking tap on a landing.”
Georges Perec, Things: A Story of the Sixties / A Man Asleep

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Ethics by Baruch SpinozaLeviathan by Thomas HobbesThe Republic of Plato by PlatoComplete Essays by Francis BaconDiscourse on Method and Meditations on First Philosophy by René Descartes
Top Philosophical Texts
14 books — 10 voters
Theroux Metaphrastes by Alexander TherouxVoices after Evelyn by Rick HarschThree Wogs by Alexander TherouxProvisional Biography of Mose Eakins by Evan DaraThe Twenty Days of Turin by Giorgio De Maria
Leaf by Leaf Books
42 books — 5 voters

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