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9c518c6 mdh bqy mn mHtDry kmbwdy? Swr@ kbyr@ llnjm@ l'myrky@ tHml byn dhr`yh Tflan 'Sfr. mdh bqy mn twms? ktb@u: 'rd mmlk@ llh `l~ l'rD. mdh bqy mn bythwvn? rjl mqTb lwjh, msh`th lsh`r kmjnwn wynTq bSwt mkty'b <> <>. mdh bqy mn frnz? ktb@u: b`d Twl Dll, l`wd@. whkdh dwlyk, whkdh dwlyk. qbl 'n nunsa~ ntHwl l~ <>. <> hw mHT@ tSl byn lky'n wlnsyn. sex psychological political religion love philosophy جنس friedrich-nietzche milan-kundera neitzsche اجتماع كائن-لا-تحتمل-خفته ميلان-كونديرا نيتشه علم-نفس فلسفة فلسفة-حياة religion-and-philoshophy حب philosophy-of-life friedrich-nietzsche sociology novel psychology ميلان كونديرا
8660966 knt tkhf mn 'n yuGlq `lyh dkhl n`sh w'n tudlaW~ fy 'rD 'myrk. ldhlk ktbt wSy@ shtrTt fyh 'n tuHrq jthth b`d mwth, w'n yunthr rmdh fy lhw. tyryz wtwms mt tHt sh`r lthql. 'm hy f'rdt 'n tmwt tHt sh`r lkhf@. swf tSyr 'khf mn lhw. wHsb r'y brmynyd, fn mwth tHwWl mn lslby l~ lyjby. sex psychological political religion love philosophy جنس friedrich-nietzche milan-kundera neitzsche اجتماع كائن-لا-تحتمل-خفته ميلان-كونديرا نيتشه علم-نفس فلسفة فلسفة-حياة religion-and-philoshophy حب philosophy-of-life friedrich-nietzsche sociology novel psychology ميلان كونديرا
1f9e1f5 'Dft lmSwWr btHbWb 'mwmy : <<'jsd `ry@. wlkn hdh 'mr Tby`y jdan! wkl m hw Tby`y jmyl!>>. sex psychological political religion love philosophy جنس friedrich-nietzche milan-kundera neitzsche اجتماع كائن-لا-تحتمل-خفته ميلان-كونديرا نيتشه علم-نفس فلسفة فلسفة-حياة religion-and-philoshophy حب philosophy-of-life friedrich-nietzsche sociology novel psychology ميلان كونديرا
9f5c09b But it was not only a feeling of guilt which drove him into danger. He detested the pettiness that made life semilife and men semimen. He wished to put his life on one of a pair of scales and death on the other. He wished each of his acts, indeed each day, each hour, each second of his life to be measured against the supreme criterion, which is death. That was why he wanted to march at the head of the column, to walk on a tightrope over an abyss, to have a halo of bullets around his head and thus to grow in everyone's eyes and become unlimited as death is unlimited. . . philosphy existentialist novel psychology Milan Kundera
a93194d How would I explain to him that I couldn't make peace with him? How would I explain that if I did I would immediately lose my inner balance? How would I explain that one of the arms of my internal scales would suddenly shoot upward? How would I explain that my hatred of him counterbalanced the weight of evil that had fallen on my youth? How would I explain that he embodied all the evils in my life? How would I explain to him that I needed to hate him? hate meaning czech definition structure enemy peace forgiveness novel evil Milan Kundera
1ca748a In the presence of Esch, values have hidden their faces. Order, loyalty, sacrifice--he cherishes all these words, but exactly what do they represent? Sacrifice for what? Demand what sort of order? He doesn't know. If a value has lost its concrete content, what is left of it? A mere empty form; an imperative that goes unheeded and, all the more furious, demands to be heard and obeyed. The less Esch knows what he wants, the more furiously he wants it. Esch: the fanaticism of the era with no God. Because all values have hidden their faces, anything can be considered a value. Justice, order--Esch seeks them now in the trade union struggle, then in religion; today in police power, tomorrow in the mirage of America, where he dreams of emigrating. He could be a terrorist or a repentant terrorist turning in his comrades, or a party militant or a cult member a kamikaze prepared to sacrifice his life. All the passions rampaging through the bloody history of our time are taken up, unmasked, and terrifyingly displayed in Esch's modest adventure. sacrifice esch sleepwalkers imperative broch cult post-modern modern certainty purpose-of-life order symbolic existentialism fanaticism novel values loyalty Milan Kundera
f84c7f1 Their message will never be decoded... because people have no patience to listen to it in an age when the accumulation of messages old and new is such that their voices cancel one another out. Today history is no more than a thin thread of the remembered stretching over an ocean of the forgotten, but time moves on, and an epoch of millennia will come which the inextensible memory of the individual will be unable to encompass; whole centuries and millennia will therefore fall away, centuries of painting and music, centuries of discoveries, of battles, of books, and this will be dire, because man will lose the notion of his self, and his history, unfathomable, unencompassable, will shrivel into a few schematic signs destitute of all sense. myth history past czech signs decode enigma symbols messages forgetting novel Milan Kundera
09da160 What drove such people to their sinister occupations? Spite? Certainly, but also the desire for order. Because the desire for order tries to transform the human world into an inorganic reign in which everything goes well, everything functions as a subject of an impersonal will. The desire for order is at the same time a desire for death, because life is a perpetual violation of order. Or, inversely, the desire for order is a virtuous pretext by which man's hatred for man justifies its crimes. czech thanatos totalitarianism order sinister will novel Milan Kundera
20005c3 Si tuvieras que elegir entre la cordura, tu vida tal como la recuerdas, antes que la verdadera inestabilidad, ?que elegirias como manera adecuada para vivir de un estudioso? research novel vampires Elizabeth Kostova
0034852 We come up against beauty here -- for the first time in our enquiry: beauty at which a novelist should never aim though he fails if he does not achieve it. I will conduct beauty to her proper place later on. Meanwhile please accept her as part of a completed plot. She looks a little surprised at being there, but beauty ought to look a little surprised: it is the emotion that best suits her face, as Botticelli knew when he painted her risen from the waves, between the winds and the flowers. The beauty who does not look surprised, who accepts her position as her due--she reminds us too much of a prima donna. botticelli plot surprise novel E.M. Forster
79e1712 "I went on steadily trying to 'find out how to'; but I wrote two or three novels without feeling that I had made much progress. It was not until I wrote "Ethan Frome" that I suddenly felt the artisan's full control of his implements. When "Ethan Frome" first appeared I was severely criticized by the reviewers for what was considered the clumsy structure of the tale. I had pondered long on this structure, had felt its peculiar difficulties, and possible awkwardness, but could think of no alternative which would serve as well in the given case: and though I am far from thinking "Ethan Frome" my best novel, and am bored and even exasperated when I am told that it is, I am still sure that its structure is not its weak point." structure writing-process novel Edith Wharton
270c760 I was beginning to understand something I couldn't articulate. It was a jazzy feeling in my chest, a fluttering, a kind of buzzing in my brain. Warmth. Life. The circulation of blood. Sanguinity. I don't know. I understood the enormous risk of telling the truth, how the telling could result in every level of hell reigning down on you, your skin scorched to the bone and then bone to ash and then nothing but a lingering odour of shame and decomposition, but now I was also beginning to understand the new and alien feeling of taking the risk and having the person on the other end of the telling, the listener, say: Bad shit at home? You guys are running away? Yeah, I said. I understand, said, Noehmi. literature life irma-voth miriam-toews feeling novel Miriam Toews
1d40ab1 Irma, she said. But I had started to walk away. I heard her say some more things but by then I had yanked my skirt up and was running down the road away from her and begging the wind to obliterate her voice. She wanted to live with me. She missed me. She wanted me to come back home. She wanted to run away. She was yelling all this stuff and I wanted so badly for her to shut up. She was quiet for a second and I stopped running and turned around once to look at her. She was a thimble-sized girl on the road, a speck of a living thing. Her white-blond hair flew around her head like a small fire and it was all I could see because everything else about her blended in with the countryside. He offered you a what? she yelled. An espresso! I yelled back. It was like yelling at a shorting wire or a burning bush. What is it? she said. Coffee! I yelled. Irma, can I come and live-- I turned around again and began to run. literature fiction funny inspirational novel Miriam Toews
e57d1fe My mother clutches at the collar of my shirt. I rub her back and feel her tears on my neck. It's been decades since our bodies have been this close. It's an odd sensation, like a torn ligament knitting itself back, lumpy and imperfect, usable as long as we know not to push it too hard. india love novel-in-stories women-s-books indian-american divakaruni immigrant-experience mothers-and-daughters novel Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
a9316f4 Bana hic acimayin... Biz, siradan insanlar, yalniz bir sefer oluruz. Ama buyuk adamlar iki sefer olurler. Birinci sefer bu dunyayi birakip goctukleri, ikinci sefer de biraktiklari eserler, yikilip kayboldugu zaman. drina ivo-andric ottoman-empire bosnia historical quotes novel Ivo Andrić
a7d3cc8 My blackness is spreading, Alice. I've been seeing and hearing things that can't be there or anywhere. At night, when I'm not hallucinating mad women, I can feel depression starting to burn me around the edges. If I sink into it, I'll have to give this thing up and write a novel. novel Hanif Kureishi
34ba20b But inside loss there can be gain, too,like the small silver spider Bela had discovered one dewy morning, curled asleep at the center of a rose. india fiction child-narrator indian-american divakaruni immigrant-fiction women-s-fiction mothers-and-daughters novel Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
b168da8 When you get everything you wanted, I think maybe you do have to be a little grateful for the people who got you there.. whether or not they thought they were doing you any favors at the time. writer life big-girls-don-t-cry novel Jennifer Weiner
a6a6e51 And that is why novels, even when they are about wicked people, can solace us: they suggest a more comprehensible and thus more manageable human race, they give us the illusion of perspicacity and of power. illusion human character-building novel-writing novel E.M. Forster
0cb617c "Get your sticky fingers away from my cookies," Ben ordered, without turning his head, to see Jaxton trying to steal one from the cooking tray. "You weren't saying that last night," Jaxton retaliated, coming up to Ben's side, to give him a nudge. They were both smiling, while looking down at the counter, where Ben was making his delicious rosemary cookies. "In fact, I seem to remember you grabbing my sticky fingers and putting them in your mouth," he teased, speaking quietly, so that Lyon wouldn't hear them at the other side of the room. Ben turned to Jaxton and abandoned his baking, to catch his face in flour covered hands and plant a deep kiss on his lips. Jaxton opened his mouth, in acceptance of his kiss. ~ From the Heart" romance relationship music friendship love cello mm notes lgbt gay novel short-stories Elaine White
444796a She lifts her eyes, and there is Death in the corner, but not like a king with his iron crown, as the epics claimed. Why, it is a giant brush loaded with white paint. It descends upon her with gentle suddenness, obliterating the shape of the world. india indian-american immigrant-fiction indian mothers-and-daughters novel Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
8ba477d Dunyanin bir tarafinda bir yerde, bir piyango cekiliyor, savas yapiliyor ve hepimizin alinyazisi da boylece uzaklarda belirtiliyordu. ivo-andric ottoman-empire quotes novel Ivo Andrić
847f377 I also need to prepare myself for the inevitability of utter boredom: Very often, single people don't do shit. They do nothing, all night long. They sit in a recliner and watch TV. I've probably watched more television than anyone you've ever met, and I don't even own one. Terrible shows, good shows, Golf tournaments in Cancun. C-SPAN. Hours of Oprah. Law and Order. Lonely people love Law and Order, for whatever reason. They prefer the straight narratives. p60 lonely-people visible-man novel Chuck Klosterman
4df18fe "I glare at him and sigh. "Don't you understand what a book is?" "Obviously." emmahart reading romance quote reality life love standalone novel Emma Hart
bb74fd2 Perhaps all romance is like that; not a contract between equal parties but an explosion of dreams and desires that can find no outlet in everyday life. novel Jeanette Winterson
da62030 In the temple, I sit on the cool floor next to Grandfather, beneath the stern benevolence of the goddess's glance. Grandfather is clad in only a traditional silk dhoti--no fancy modern clothes for him. That's one of the things I admire about him, how he is always unapologetically, uncompromisingly himself. His spine is erect and impatient; white hairs blaze across his chest. india literary-fiction mystery novel suspense Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
90dfd1c "The novel is whatever novelists are doing at a given time. If we're not doing the big social novel fifteen years from now, it'll probably mean our sensibilities have changed in ways that make such work less compelling to us -- we won't stop because the market dried up. The writer leads, he doesn't follow. The dynamic lives in the writer's mind, not in the size of the audience. And if the social novel lives, but only barely, surviving in the cracks and ruts of the culture, maybe it will be taken more seriously, as an endangered spectacle. A reduced context but a more intense one [...] letters-of-note novel-writing novel Don DeLillo
026e08b Marian was suddenly overcome by an appalling crippling panic. She was very frightened at the idea of arriving. But it was more than that. She feared the rocks and the cliffs and the grotesque dolmen and the ancient secret things. Her two companions seemed no longer reassuring but dreadfully alien and even sinister. She felt, for the first time in her life, completely isolated and in danger. She became in an instant almost faint with terror. She said, as a cry for help, 'I'm feeling terribly nervous'. 'I know you are,' said Scottow. (...) Marian was appalled at the sudden quietness. But the insane panic had left her. She was frightened now in an ordinary way, sick in her stomach, shy, tongue-tied, horribly aware of the onset of a new world. novel Iris Murdoch
4db79f0 Najvise volim sasvim cista, laka, skromna seljacka vina, bez narocitog imena, kojih moze mnogo da se popije i ciji okus tako prijatno i svesrdno podsjeca na selo, na zemlju, na nebo i lugove. steppenwolf novel Hermann Hesse
d36e26e Oh, tesko je naici na trag Bozji usred zivota kakav mi vodimo, usred ovog tako zadovoljnog, tako izrazito gradanskog vremena, bez ikakvog duha, s pogledom na ovakvu arhitekturu, ovakve poslove i ovakve ljude. steppenwolf novel Hermann Hesse
f78b7e8 Njen miris, citavo njeno bice bili su u znaku leta i ruza. steppenwolf novel Hermann Hesse
d6e69c6 Subordinando todos sus planes al marido futuro si llegaba, estudiando las maneras de excitar el sentimiento sexual del hombre, dedicandose a la caza del macho, son pensar que podian tener una vida suya, propia, independiente de la eventualidad del matrimonio. novel Pío Baroja
848603c l 'ryd 'n 'fkr'w 'n 'sh`r 'w 'n 'tHrk, kl shy ytmzq wymwt, fkhTr ly `l~ sbyl l'ml 'nny s'jd ldhlk sbb `Dwy. philosophy novel Naguib Mahfouz
42ede39 Nowadays people talk about the things he did as though they made sense. As though even his most disastrous mistakes were only the result of bad luck or hubris. novel Jeanette Winterson
77bfbff I was happy but happy is an adult word. You don't have to ask a child about happy, you see it. They are or they are not. Adults talk about being happy because largely they are not. Talking about it is the same as trying to catch the wind. Much easier to let it blow all over you. This is where I disagree with the philosophers. They talk about passionate things but there is no passion in them. Never talk happiness with a philosopher. novel Jeanette Winterson
5aaa8c4 Bela had thought she knew what love felt like, but when she saw Sanjay at the airport after six long months, her heart gave a great, hurtful lurch, as though it were trying to leap out of her body to meet him. This, she thought. This is it. But it was only part of the truth. She would learn over the next years that love can feel a lot of different ways, and sometimes it can hurt a lot more. india indian-american indian-fiction divakaruni immigrant-experience mothers-and-daughters novel Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
90ce768 Bukan kegagalan yang merupakan kejahatan, tapi cita-cita yang dangkal. inspirational life-lesson novel L.M. Montgomery
acf02dc "Would you like to come in?" I said. My hands were sweaty. Inside my chest an ocean heaved and crashed and heaved again. "I would," he said. I saw his Adam's apple jerk as he swallowed. "Thank you." I was distracted by that thank you. We had moved past the language of formality long ago. It was strange to relearn it with each other." fiction divakaruni immigrant-experience immigrant-fiction indian-authors love-mothers-and-daughters indian women-s-fiction mothers-and-daughters novel Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni
1618365 Poezje pisze sie lzami, powiesc krwia, a historie rozczarowaniem. history poetry krew poezja powieść rozczarowanie łzy dissapointment historia polish tears novel Carlos Ruiz Zafón
dc64e91 El hogar es la quintaesencia del individualismo; en cambio, la familia es algo que esta mas bien fuera que dentro del inviduo, algo que determina la clase social. El hogar no es aristocrata, ni burgues, ni obrero. La familia es todo esto y mas aun; el hogar aisla, la familia relaciona. En Espana la mayoria de la gente tiene familia, pero no tiene hogar novel Pío Baroja
3fc63fd Bu tatli seste sanki tekinsiz olan bir sey varmis, ya bu sesin sahibi buyucuymus ya da bir buyunun etkisindeymis gibi geldi odadakilere. Ucu de tuylerinin diken diken oldugunu hissettiler. [sf 184] sirk-geceleri novel Angela Carter
bc68e48 Palyaco maskesinin altinda yatan o yuz, uzun yillar once tanisip sevilmis, sonra da kaybedilmis, simdi de yeniden bulunmus bir sevgilinin yuzu. Onunla daha once hc karsilasmamis olmama, bana tumuyle yabanci bir yuz olmasina karsin, gorup tanimamdan bile once vurgun oldugum bir yuz bu. [sf 288] sirk-geceleri novel Angela Carter
a6f9e51 Nezavisnost je hladna, oh da, ali je i spokojna, cudesno spokojna i prostrana kao onaj hladni i tihi prostor u kome se okrecu zvijezde. steppenwolf novel Hermann Hesse
3acc391 With every fall of the sun and rise of the moon, I can hear it. The Prophecy. It echoes through the halls of time. It is written on the surface of every star. Even the sun and moon cannot withhold the news of the second coming. I hear it. And I fear it. young-adult light fiction moon epic-fantasy sun fantasy-fiction young-adult-fiction novel Brian A. McBride
f2bfa47 A good novel can be a doorstop to despair. novel Colum McCann
d0d235e It's strange but as I grow older, I find myself developing more optimism. I keep inching toward the point where I believe that it's more difficult to have hope than it is to embrace cynicism. In the deep dark end, there's no point unless we have at least a modicum of hope. We trawl our way through the darkness hoping to find a pinpoint of light. But isn't it remarkable that the cynics of this world--the politicians, the corporations, the squinty-eyed critics--seem to think that they have a claim on intelligence? They seem to think that it's cooler, more intellectually engaging, to be miserable, that there's some sort of moral heft in cynicism. But I think a good novel can be a doorstop to despair. I also think the real bravery comes with those who are prepared to go through that door and look at the world in all its grime and torment, and still find something of value, no matter how small. optimism novel Colum McCann
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