Si fuera del todo sincero conmigo mismo, diría que desearía destruir todo lo que ha representado Joyce. Estoy contra la vanidad del dadaísmo en la li… - Elias Canetti

ها أنذا أحاول أن أجترح تصوير شيء ما، و ما إن يلفني الصمت حتى أدرك أني ما قلت شيئا على الإطلاق. ثمة مادة دبقة، نورانية، على نحو بديع، بقيت في أعماقي تتحدى الكلمات. و هي اللغة التي لم أتفهمها هناك، و التي من المحتم أنها الآن تجد ترجمتها في دواخلي؟ هناك أحداث، صور، و أصوات بدأ معناها الآن ينبعث حياً، تلك الكلمات التى لم تعرف التسجيل و لا الصياغة التي تكمن فيما وراء الكلمات، أبعد غوراً، أكثر التباساً من الكلمات.

Another woman catches sight of Fischerle's hump on the ground and runs screaming into the street: 'Murder! Murder!' She takes the hump for a corpse. Further details - she knows none. The murderer is very thin, a poor sap, how he came to do it, you shouldn't have thought it of him. Shot may be, someone suggests. Of course, everyone heard the shot. Three streets off, the shot had been heard. Not a bit of it, that was a motor tyre. No, it was a shot! The crowd won't be done out of its shot. A threatening attitude is assumed towards the doubters. Don't let him go. An accessory. Trying to confuse the trail! Out of the building comes more news. The woman's statements are revised. The thin man has been murdered. And the corpse on the floor? It's alive. It's the murderer, he had hidden himself. He was tring to creep away between the corpse's legs when he was caught. The more recent information is more detailed. The little man is a dwarf. What do you expect, a cripple! The blow was actually struck by another. A redheaded man. Ah, those redheads. The dwarf put him up to it. Lynch him! The woman gave the alarm. Cheers for the woman! She screamed and screamed. A Woman! Doesn't know what fear is. The murderer had threatened her. The redhead. It's always the Reds. He tore her collar off. No shooting. Of course not. What did he say? Someone must have invented the shot. The dwarf. Where is he? Inside. Rush the doors! No one else can get in. It's full up. What a murder! The woman had a plateful. Thrashed her every day. Half dead, she was. What did she marry a dwarf for? I wouldn't marry a dwarf. And you with a big man to yourself. All she could find. Too few men, that's what it is. The war! Young people to-day...Quite young he was too. Not eighteen. And a dwarf already. Clever! He was born that way. I know that. I've seen him. Went in there. Couldn't stand it. Too much blood. That's why he's so thin. An hour ago he was a great, fat man. Loss of blood, horrible! I tell you corpses sw

Literality in satire is the condemnation by quotation.