Thursday, 3 May 2018

Red wine and ink



What efforts are made to keep the truth from these places, but it comes back again and again, to grieve for everybody. Drinking is no help, red wine as thick as ink, nothing helps the sky in those places never changes, it's a vast lake of suburban smoke, shutting them in.

Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Journey to the End of Night, first published in French in 1932