« It’s like the picture of your life in that map.
Como?
Es un dibujo nada màs. It aint your life. A picture aint a thing. It’s just a picture.
Well said. But what is your life? Can you see it? It vanishes at its own appearance. Moment by moment. Until it vanishes to appear no more. When you look at the world is there a point in time when the seen becomes the remembered? How are they separate? It is that which we have no way to show. It is that which is missing from our map and from the picture that it makes. And yet it is all we have… »
Cormac McCarthy, in Cities of the Plain.

(Merci Roselyne, Marcelle et Paul pour ce séjour inoubliable dans le phare de Kerbel.)