We sometimes have a flash of understanding that amounts to the insight of genius, and yet it slowly withers, even in our hands – like a flower. The form remains, but the colours and the fragrance are gone.

We sometimes have a flash of understanding that amounts to the insight of genius, and yet it slowly withers, even in our hands – like a flower. The form remains, but the colours and the fragrance are gone.

– Robert Musil –

The Confusions of Young Törless

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