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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 52ab9cd | lSmt yjdhb lntbh. wqd ykwn mthyran. yj`lk GmDan 'w mshbwhan. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 377ffe9 | This reconciliation with Hitler reveals the profound moral perversity of a world that rests essentially on the nonexistence of return, for in this world everything is pardoned in advance and therefore everything cynically permitted. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 6a16ef3 | wqd nth~ bh lmTf l~ lTmy'nn l~ 'n fkr@ lHb ldh~ yHl fj'@ klS`q@ yHrr lmr'@ df`@ wHd@ mn kl kbH wHshm@, wbm 'nWh `fyf@ wbryy'@, f'nh tsr` l~ mnH nfsh ll`shyq mthlm tf`l '~ ft@ d`r@, bl 'kthr mn dhlk, flHb HrWr bdkhlh ynbw` lhm `l~ drj@ mn lqw@ bHyth 'n slwkh l`fw~ ymkn 'n yshbh slwk mr'@ dht b` Twyl f~ lfjwr .. f`bqry@ lHb qd t`wWD lkhbr@ f~ rmsh@ `yn .. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 48814d2 | Love is poetry, poetry is love | Milan Kundera | ||
| 98ac2f3 | Fortunately, I read (the books) without knowing what I was in for, and the best thing that can ever happen to a reader happened to me: I loved something that, by conviction (or by my nature) I should not have loved | reading | Milan Kundera | |
| f4f01c8 | lHnyn l~ ljn@ dhan hw rGb@ lnsn fy 'lan ykwn nsnan. | 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 | |
| 97298dc | s'lh mdh bmknh 'n yqdm lh: khmr? l, l, lm tkn rGb@ fy lkhmr. dh kn hnk shy trGb fy shrbh, fsykwn lqhw@. | 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 | |
| accf3b7 | Even in the game there lurks a lack of freedom; even in a game is a trap for the players. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 93a0da1 | It was a curious game. This curiousness was evidenced, for example, in the fact that the young man, even though he himself was playing the unknown driver remarkably well, did not for a moment stop seeing his girl in the hitchhiker. And it was precisely this that was tormenting. He saw his girl seducing a strange man, and had the bitter privilege of being present, of seeing at close quarters how she looked and of hearing what she said when s.. | Milan Kundera | ||
| ad888a6 | If in the past people would listen to music out of love for music, nowadays it roars everywhere and all the time, "regardless whether we want to hear it", it roars from loudspeakers, in cars, in restaurants, in elevators, in the streets, in waiting rooms, in gyms, in the earpieces of Walkmans, music rewritten, reorchestrated, abridged, and stretched out, fragments of rock, of jazz, of opera, a flood of everything jumbled together so that we.. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 66a63dd | Tereza had gone back to sleep; he could not. He pictured her death. She was dead and having terrible nightmares; but because she was dead, he was unable to wake her from them. Yes, that is death: Tereza asleep, having terrible nightmares, and he unable to wake her. | Milan Kundera | ||
| c67ff89 | From tender youth we are told by father and teacher that betrayal is the most heinous offense imaginable. But what is betrayal?...Betrayal means breaking ranks and breaking off into the unknown. Sabina knew of nothing more magnificent than going off into the unknown. | Milan Kundera | ||
| bdb38c5 | 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 paintings and music, centuries of discoveries, of battles, of books, and this will be dire, because man will lose the notion of his self, .. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 17c2cb5 | Seeing is limited by two borders: Strong light, which blinds, and total darkness. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 4b894b4 | No one can get reall drunk on a novle or a painting, but who can help getting drunk on Beethoven's night, Bartok's Sonata for two Pianos and percussion or the Beatles' White Album? He loved mozart as much as rock. He considered music a liberating force, it liberated him from lonliness, introversion, the dust of the library; it opened the door of hi body and allowed his soul to step out into the world to make friends, He loved to dance an r.. | Kundera Milan | ||
| 3f05af9 | Tomas came to this conclusion: Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate passions, not merely different but opposite. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation (a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman). | Milan Kundera | ||
| 791e5f0 | Who was the real me? I can only repeat: I was a man of many faces. At meetings I was earnest, enthusiastic, and committed; among friends, unconstrained and given to teasing; with Marketa, cynical and fitfully witty; and alone (and thinking of Marketa), unsure of myself and as agitated as a schoolboy. Was the last face the real one? No. They were all real: I was not a hypocrite, with one real face and several false ones. I had several faces .. | youth identity man-of-many-faces czech masks self novel | Milan Kundera | |
| b288ae7 | He took her in his arms and lifted her up. She looked at him and he noticed only now that her eyes were full of tears. He pressed her to him. She understood that he loved her and this suddenly filled her with sadness. She felt sad that he loved her so much, and she felt like crying. | milan-kundera | Milan Kundera | |
| 6a08267 | And it isn't enough for us to identify with our selves, it is necessary to do so passionately, to the point of life and death. Because only in this way can we regard ourselves not merely as a variant of a human prototype but as a being with its own irreplaceable essence. | Milan Kundera | ||
| c4840a5 | The eye: the window to the soul; the center of the face's beauty; the point where a person's identity is concentrated; but at the same time an optical instrument that requires constant washing, wetting, maintenance by a special liquid dosed with salt. So the gaze, the greatest marvel man possesses, is regularly interrupted by a mechanical washing action. | Milan Kundera | ||
| c33b1c2 | I spent hours putting that cassette together. To me, making a tape is like writing a letter - there's a lot of erasing and rethinking and starting again, and I wanted it to be a good one. . . A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You've got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention, and then you've got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch. . . oh, there are loads of rules. (pg. 88-9) | Nick Hornby | ||
| 606ad6e | You know the worst thing about being rejected? The lack of control. If I could only control the when and how of being dumped by somebody, then it wouldn't seem as bad. But then, of course, it wouldn't be rejection, would it? It would be by mutual consent. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 4e27c8d | The difference between these people and me is that they finished college and I didn't; as a consequence, they have smart jobs and I have a scruffy job, they are rich and I am poor, they are self confident and I am incontinent... they have opinions and I have lists. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 19a21ba | Marcus couldn't believe it. Dead. A dead duck. OK, he'd been trying to hit it on the head with a piece of sandwich, but he tried to do all sorts of things, and none of them had ever happened before. He'd tried to get te highest score on the Stargazer machine in the kebab shop on Hornsey Road--nothing. He's tried to read Nicky's thoughts by staring at the back of his head every maths lesson for a week--nothing. It really annoyed him that the.. | Nick Hornby | ||
| 05a3dd2 | Will wrestled with his conscience, grappled it to the ground and sat on it until he couldn't hear a squeak out of it. | people life | Nick Hornby | |
| aa27e1a | It is a strange paradox that while the grief of football fans(and it is real grief) is private - we each have an individual relationship with our clubs, and I think that we are secretly convinced that none of the other fans understands quite why we have been harder hit than anyone else - we are forced to mourn in public, surrounded by people whose hurt is expressed in forms different from our own. | fever-pitch football-fan nick-hornby football | Nick Hornby | |
| a553591 | It did not do to give your heart to a man so entirely, she thought. Men did not value what they came by easily. Once you loved, you laid yourself open to pain. | Alison Weir | ||
| 4fb4ce7 | In this martial world dominated by men, women had little place. The Church's teachings might underpin feudal morality, yet when it came to the practicalities of life, a ruthless pragmatism often came into play. Kings and noblemen married for political advantage, and women rarely had any say in how they or their wealth were to be disposed in marriage. Kings would sell off heiresses and rich widows to the highest bidder, for political or terr.. | marriage feminism slavery history politics life serfdom eleanor-of-aquitaine medieval medieval-history royalty oppression | Alison Weir | |
| 42f8449 | What does that mean, 'real'? Amn't I real, you? If you cut me, do I not bleed? If you piss me off, will I not kick you up the arse? | Tad Williams | ||
| c22ed68 | Confident. Cocky. Lazy. Dead. | guiding-words | Tad Williams | |
| 0ca3e50 | I'm tired of being lost and I'm tired of dying, so I'm going to try something different this time. | Tad Williams | ||
| 0af2c7b | Even the king's Erkynguard might have wished to be elsewhere, rather than here on this killing ground where duty brought them and loyalty prisoned them. Only the mercenaries were here by choice. To Simon, the minds of men who would come to this of their own will were suddenly as incomprehensible as the thoughts of spiders or lizards--less so, even, for the small creatures of the earth almost always fled from danger. These were madmen, Simon.. | Tad Williams | ||
| 86a611b | Lying in bed, half-covered by the blankets, I would drowsily ask why he had come to my door that night long ago. It had become a ritual for us, as it does for all lovers: where, when, why? remember...I understand even old people rehearse their private religion of how they first loved, most guarded of secrets. And he would answer, sleep blurring his words, "Because I had to." The question and the answer were always the same. Why? Because I h.. | lovers-love-story secrets | Margaret George | |
| 3c4b5f5 | A foreign language can signify a total separation. It can represent, even today, the ferocity of our ignorance. To write in a new language, to penetrate its heart, no technology helps. You can't accelerate the process, you can't abbreviate it. The | Jhumpa Lahiri | ||
| bae59a7 | My grandfather always says that's what books are for. To travel without moving an inch. | Jhumpa Lahiri | ||
| b2ef241 | This uneasiness comes over me from time to time, and I feel as if I've somehow been pieced together from two different puzzles. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 5332457 | What a terrible thing it is to wound someone you really care for--and to do it so unconsciously. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| d173442 | Never trust a man who carries a handkerchief, I always say. One of many prejudicial rules of thumb. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| f36adc5 | Only the dead stay 17 forever. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| fd9d143 | She gave me this look - she might have been watching from a lifeboat as the ship went down. Or maybe it was the other way around. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| c3df916 | When he woke up the next day, the world was still there, and things were already moving forward, like the great karmic wheel of Indian mythology that kills every living thing in its path. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| f20dccd | Her partially open lips now opened wide, and her soft, fragrant tongue entered his mouth, where it began a relentless search for unformed words, for a secret code engraved there. Tengo's own tongue responded unconsciously to this movement and soon their tongues were like two young snakes in a spring meadow, newly wakened from their hibernation and hungrily intertwining, each led on by the other's scent. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 9ee581a | But if you peeled away the ornamental egos that she had built, there was only an abyss of nothingness and the intense thirst that came with it. | Haruki Murakami | ||
| 7ccba2a | They put up with such strenuous training, and where did their thoughts, their hopes and dreams, disappear to? When people pass away, do their thoughts just vanish? | Haruki Murakami |