without knowing why, she was understanding; and the intimate sensation was one of contact, of existence looking and being looked at. it was from that time that something of an indecipherable brightness would survive. and where was it coming from that perhaps everything deserved the perfection of itself? and where was that inclination coming from that was almost like: connecting yourself to the next day through a desire. where had it arisen? but she almost didn't have any desires...she almost didn't have desires, she almost didn't possess strength, she was living at the end of herself and at the beginning of something that already no longer was, finding her balance in the indistinct. in her state of weak resistance she was receiving in herself something that would be excessively fragile in order to fight and conquer any power of body or soul. 


clarice lispector
the chandelier