Disneau, Structure de Baltard, 1968
Sometimes I look at the Moon, and I imagine that those darker
spots are caverns, cities, islands, and the places that shine are those where
the sea catches the light of the sun like the glass of a mirror. I would like
to tell of war and friendship among the various parts of the body, the arms
that do battle with the feet, and the veins that make love with the arteries or
the bones with the marrow. All the stories I would like to write persecute me
when I am in my chamber, it seems as if they are all around me, the little
devils, and while one tugs at my ear, another tweaks my nose, and each says to
me, 'Sir, write me, I am beautiful'.
Umberto Eco
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