“For days and weeks on end one racks one's brains to no avail, and, if asked, one could not say whether one goes on writing purely out of habit, or a craving for admiration, or because one knows not how… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“The tiny features below, taken together with the gentle mass of Montblanc towering above them, the Vanoise glacier almost invisible in the shimmering distance,… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“...I was just laying aside a Lausanne paper I'd bought in Zurich when my eye was caught by a report that said the remains… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“Is the destruction not, rather, irrefutable proof that the catastrophes which develop, so to speak, in our hands and seem to break out suddenly… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“You adulterate the truth as you write. There isn't any pretense that you try to arrive at the literal truth. And the only consolation… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“In this little booklet, which had belonged to a maternal great-uncle of ... mine, who spent some time working as an office clerk in… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“It is hard, said Mme Landau, when I told her about those railway lessons, in the end it is hard to know what it… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“...I remembered the story Evan the cobbler had told me, about the two headstreams of Dwy Fawr and Dwy Fach which are said to… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“Once I am at leisure, said Salvatore, I take refuge in prose as one might in a boat. All day long I am surrounded… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“What distinguishes art from such undertaker's business is that life's closeness to death is its theme, not its addiction.” — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“Looking at those gashed bodies, and at the witnesses of the execution, doubled up by grief like snapped reeds, I gradually understood that, beyond… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“I have even begun to speak in foreign tongues roaming like a nomad in my own town.” — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
“From the outset my main concern was with the shape and the self-contained nature of discrete things, the curve of banisters on a staircase,… — W.G. Sebald Copy Share Image
