"Today I live on an island, in a house that is sad, hard, severe, that I built for myself, solitary on a sheer rock over the sea: a house that is the spectre, the secret image of prison. The image of my nostalgia. Maybe I never desired, not even then, to escape from jail. Man is not meant to live freely in freedom, but to be free inside a prison."

— Curzio Malaparte, Fughe in prigione, trans. Robin Monotti Graziadei (via proustitute)

(via earl-greys)