Tuesday, 19 November 2013

A Deserted Street

                      He walked on in silence, the solitary sound of his footsteps echoing in his head, as in a deserted street at dawn. His solitude was so complete beneath a lovely sky as mellow and serene as a good conscience , amid that busy throng, that he was amazed at his own existence; he must be somebody else's nightmare, and whoever it was would certainly awaken soon.

Jean Paul Sartre

reblogged from Varietas

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