the street of crocodiles and other stories - bruno schulz

P.25 We forgot him.
⠀We were beset again from all sides by the mournful greyness of the city which crept through the windows with the dark rash of dawn, with the mushroom growth of dusk, developing into the shape fur of long winter nights. The wallpaper of the rooms, blissfully unconstrained in those former days and accessible to the multicoloured flights of the birds, closed in on itself and gardened, becoming engrossed int he monotony of bitter monologues.

P.99 Can one wonder? Man was entering under false pretences the sphere of incredible facilities, acquired too cheaply, below cost price, almost for nothing, and the disproportion between outlay and gain, the obvious fraud on nature, the excessive payment for a trick of genius, had to be offset by self-parody. The cyclist rode on among elemental outburst of laughter — miserable victors, martyrs to their genius — so great was the comic appeal of these wonders of technology.

P.172 Why, in spite of this, did I have the feeling of having been there already — a long time ago? Don’t we in fact know in advance all the landscapes we see in our life? Can anything occur that is entirely new, that in the depths of our being, we have not anticipated for a long time?

P.261 Even stranger things happen here — things that I try to conceal from myself and that are quite fantastic in their absurdity. Whenever I leave our room, I have the impression that someone who has been standing behind the door moves quickly away and turns a corner. Or somebody seems to be walking in front of me, not looking back. It is not a nurse. I know who it is! “Mother!” I exclaim, in a voice trembling with excitement, and my mother turns her face to me and looks at me for a moment with a pleading smile. Where am I? What is happening here? What maze have I become entangled to?

P.316 Here events are not ephemeral surface phantoms; they have roots sunk into the deep of things and penetrate the essence. Here decisions take place every moment, laying down precedents once and for all. Everything that happens here happens only once and is irrevocable. This is why such weightiness, such heavy emphasis, such sadness inheres in what takes place.