Quotes from Maurice Blanchot

On voit que Marcel Bealu se sert des images du sommeil pour nous mettre aux prises avec le sentiment d'énigme qui est pour quelques-uns le sentiment fondamental de l'existence. (p. 594)

The essence of literature is to escape any essential determination, or any affirmation which stabilises or even realises it: it is never already there; it is always to be found or to be reinvented.

They were both dreamed only by the one they would have liked to be for each other.

Escribir será, en el libro, volverse legible para todos y, para sí mismo, indescifrable?

Midnight falls when the dice are cast, but one can only cast the dice at Midnight.

As long as I live, I am a mortal man, but when I die, by ceasing to be a man I also cease to be mortal, I am no longer capable of dying, and my impending death horrifies me because I see it as it is: no longer death but the impossibility of dying.

I am destined to illuminate you by burning myself up.

Men are weak. They accomplish the worst only by remaining unaware of it until they grow accustomed to it and find themselves justified by the "greatness" of rigorous discipline and the orders of an irresistible leader.

Ba???lamay?n. Ba???lama, ba???lamadan önce suçlar; suçlayarak,kusuru [suçu] olumlayarak, onu geri al?namaz k?lar, vurmay? (coup) suçluluÄŸa (culpabilité) kadar götürür; böylece art?k hiçbir ÅŸey onar?lamaz, verme ve ba???lama olanakl? olmaktan ç?kar. Yaln?zca masumiyeti ba???la. Seni ba???lad???m için beni ba???la.

Povera camera, sei mai stata abitata? Come fa freddo qui, come ti abito poco. Ci sto forse per cancellare tutte le tracce del mio soggiorno? Di nuovo, di nuovo, camminando e rimanendo sempre qui, un altro paese, altre città, altre strade, lo stesso paese.

They do not think of death, having no other relation but with death.

The journal represents the series of reference points which a writer establishes in order to keep track of himself when he begins to suspect the dangerous metamorphosis to which he is exposed. It is a route that remains viable; it is something like a watchman's walkway upon ramparts: parallel to, overlooking, and sometimes skirting around the other path—the one where to stray is the endless task. Here true things are still spoken of.

Mis kõige enam lugemist ohustab, on see: lugeja reaalsus, tema isiksus, pretensioonikus ja põikpäisus loetu ees aina iseendaks jääda - inimeseks, kes üldiselt teab, kuidas lugeda. Lugeda luuletust ei tähenda lugeda lihtsalt järjekordset luuletust, see ei tähenda isegi sisenemist luule olemusse selle luuletuse kaudu. Luuletuse lugemine on see luuletus ise, mis ennast lugemises kinnitab.

How long this lasted I can't imagine, it wasn't an imaginary time, it also didn't belong to the time  of things that happen.

the writer never reads his work. It is, for him, illegible, a secret. He cannot linger in its presence. It is a secret because he is separated from it. However, his inability to read the work is not a purely negative phenomenon. It is, rather, the writer's only real relation to what we call the work.