Simone de Beauvoir: Old Age

24 September 2019


The past is not a peaceful landscape lying there behind me, a country in which I can stroll wherever I please, and will gradually show me all its secret hills and dates. As I was moving forward, so it was crumbling. Most of the wreckage that can be seen is colourless, distorted, frozen: its meaning escapes me… all that’s left is a skeleton. I shall never find my plans again, my hopes and fears - I shall not find myself.

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