A Quote by Christa Faust

I seem to be inside a kind of artificial environment. Almost like a... a simulacrum of Reiden Lake. — © Christa Faust
I seem to be inside a kind of artificial environment. Almost like a... a simulacrum of Reiden Lake.
All of writing is a huge lake. There are great rivers that feed the lake, like Tolstoy or Dostoyevsky. And then there are mere trickles, like Jean Rhys. All that matters is feeding the lake. I don't matter. The lake matters. You must keep feeding the lake.
'Swan Lake' can be a nightmare. To make a 'Swan Lake' that is worth it, every single movement and breath has to be perfect. When you have an idea of 'Swan Lake' that is as high as that, it's almost impossible.
Artificial manures lead inevitably to artificial nutrition, artificial food, artificial animals and finally to artificial men and women.
When I was 12 years old, I went to swim in a lake, and I almost died in that lake because the water was too deep - much deeper than I thought.
But what if God himself can be simulated, that is to say can be reduced to signs that constitute faith? Then the whole system becomes weightless, it is no longer anything but a gigantic simulacrum - not unreal, but simulacrum, that is to say never exchanged for the real, but exchanged for itself, in an uninterrupted circuit without reference or circumference.
It almost seems like anyone who doesn't seem political in any way is at an advantage. It's almost like anti-politics. A stage where anyone who acts - and it is an act - as if they have nothing to do with the way that daily politics works is lauded as some kind of superstar human being.
I expect to beat everybody I play. It's kind of that quiet confidence that I have inside that I try to present to the opponent without getting too overboard. Because there are times when I seem composed, but inside I'm losing my mind.
I'm definitely writing my fears. It's almost therapeutic to at least voice a terror, to say, 'I'm worried that Lake Powell looks low and Lake Mead looks even lower.'
The lake was always my orienting point when my dad was teaching me how to not get lost. The lake is east, so you'll always know that. It's a weird thing where you can kind of feel where you're at in Chicago, and when I was downtown, I was like, 'Oh, it feels more open over here. That must be east.' It felt like a little secret thing.
Then your fingers moved down to my chin. You pushed it up with your thumb to look at me, almost like you were studying me in the artificial lights above my head. And, I mean, you really looked at me … with eyes like two stars. [...] And I had wings fluttering away inside me all right. Big fat moth wings. You trapped me easily, drew me toward you like I was already in the net.
The main problem with being president is the constant sense that you are inside a glass bowl for everyone to see, or in a kind of barometric chamber with an artificial atmosphere where you must stay all the time.
The power of the river is to flow wildly! The power of the lake is to think calmly! Wise man both flows like a river and thinks lake a lake!
The simulacrum is never that which conceals the truth--it is the truth which conceals that there is none. The simulacrum is true.
Grace is like a lake of drinkable water right outside your door. But you stay inside and die of thirst.
Individual societies begin in harmonious adaptation to the environment and, like individuals, quickly get trapped into nonadaptive, artificial, repetitive sequences.
It's just human. We all have the jungle inside of us. We all have wants and needs and desires, strange as they may seem. If you stop to think about it, we're all pretty creative, cooking up all these fantasies. it's like a kind of poetry.
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