Alone

No one can hurt me. They’ve tried to kill me so many times that nobody scares me now. I know what kind of people want me dead: believers in love, political, dressed like the poor. Nothing they can do is hidden from me. This whitewashed …

Fragment, 1959

And entering towns the guns had missed. towns out of storybooks, we saw the constellation of the Snake but we were afraid to look at each other. The earth smelled like an orphanage—potatoes, disinfectant, shoes—I thought Time walked next to us, years, …

Amedeo Modigliani

I believe those who describe him didn’t know him as I did, and here’s why. First, I could know only one side of his being—the radiant side. After all I was just a stranger, probably a not easily understood twenty-year-old woman, a foreigner. Secondly, I myself noticed a big change …

The Guest

Nothing is changed: against the dining-room windows hard grains of whirling snow still beat. I am what I was, but a man came to me. “What do you want?” I asked. “To be with you in hell,” he said. I laughed. “It’s plain …