In an era without genius,
manages mediocrity.
manages mediocrity.
That phrase (sentence, intuition, aphorism, what-it-is ...) the threads do a lot of springs, and then gave it to print on one page of my first book, camouflaged among a decalogue of ewes of the same kindred. The fact is that from time to time, lately more often, circumstances compel me to repeat them, or even cite an inexplicable shame, as if the truth had been gradually installed in our world and had taken root final. But today I do not know why, I like to open a new twist to my innocence of that time would never have suspected:
In a time of no genius, he manages mediocrity. And the meanness rampant, licking the angle of the mouth.
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