La vie est atroce ; nous savons cela. Mais précisément parce que j’attends peu de choses de la condition humaine, les périodes de bonheur, les progrès partiels, les efforts de recommencement, et de continuité me semblent autant de prodiges qui compensent presque l’immense masse des maux, des échecs, de l’incurie et de l’erreur.
Mémoires d’Hadrien - Marguerite Yourcenar, p.315 ed. Folio. (via viresqueacquiriteundo)

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Though the great song return no more
There’s keen delight in what we have:
The rattle of pebbles on the shore
Under the receding wave.
The nineteenth century and after, W.B. Yeats, Poésie/Gallimard, p. 102
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