“The lesson of Wuthering Heights, of Greek tragedy and, ultimately, of all religions, is that there is an instinctive tendency towards divine intoxication which the rational world of calculation cannot bear.”
«Toda palabra poética ha de dejar al lenguaje en punto cero, en el punto de la indeterminación infinita, de la infinita libertad.(…) Las palabras crean espacios agujereados, cráteres, vacíos. Eso es el poema».
There is a semblance of a truer-than-touchable world above Venice. A traveler in Venice will readily agree, but the meaning of this statement will change with his experience. He will quickly lose what can facetiously be called the sense of ontic orientation. Everything unfolding around him certainly exists, but how, under what laws? Perhaps he is a dream from which he will awaken when he crosses that invisible line? And how is it different from Guardi’s vedutas, from Carpaccio’s cityscape, from the yellows and blues of Tintoretto and Titian?(…).
Venice is like an astouding shell fished from the sea. This shell, put to the ear, makes the deep sound of the ocean audible, even if we are told that it is completely impossible.
– Ewa Bieńkowska, Co mówią kamienie Wenecji (translation mine)
