If ever again we happened to lose our balance, just when sleepwalking through the same dream on the brink of hells valley, if ever the magical mare (whom I ride through the night air hollowed out into caverns and caves where wild animals live) in a crazy fit of anger over some word I might have said without the perfect sweetness that works on her like a charm, if ever the magic Mare looks over her shoulder and whinnies: So! You dont love me! and bucks me off, sends me flying to the hyenas, if ever the paper ladder that I climb so easily to go pick stars for Prometheaat the very instant that I reach out my hand and it smells like fresh new moon, so good, it makes you believe in gods geniusif ever at that very instant my ladder catches firebecause it is so fragile, all it would take is someones brushing against it tactlessly and all that would be left is ashesif ever I had the dreadful luck again to find myself falling screaming down into the cruel guts of separation, and emptying all my being of hope, down to the last milligram of hope, until I am able to melt into the pure blackness of the abyss and be no more than night and a death rattle,I would really rather not be tumbling around without my pencil and paper.

About This Quote

About Hlne Cixous

Hlne Cixous was a contemporary French writer. Hélène Cixous is a French writer, playwright and literary critic. During her academic career, she was primarily associated with the Centre universitaire de Vincennes, which she co-founded in 1969 and where she created the first centre of women's studies at a European university. Read more on Wikipedia →

Themes

  • Hope — Words of encouragement about optimism and brighter futures

More quotes by Hlne Cixous

Related Quotes