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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| 36fc09e | The landings were dirty and the walls were bare. This stairway brought me into the balcony, and I sat there in the dark, thinking that nothing now was going to save me, that no pretty girl with new shoes was going to cross my path in time. | John Cheever | ||
| 9b93409 | Agnes Shay had the true spirit of a maid. Moistened with dishwater and mild eau de cologne, reared in narrow and sunless bedrooms, in back passages, back stairs, laundries, linen closets, and in those servants' halls that remind one of a prison, her soul had grown docile and bleak...Agnes loved the ceremonies of a big house. She drew the curtains in the living room at dark, lighted the candles on the table, and struck the dinner chimes like.. | John Cheever | ||
| 0585dd7 | den uparkhei oute Theos oute allos kosmos, o allos kosmos einai ena khontro, apaisio psema auton pou theloun na mas epiballontai, na mas exousiazoun. Gia n' apodeixoume ten uparxe tou Theou, den ekhoume tipota ektos apo skholastikes anoesies. To mono pou mas menei einai e antikeimenike pragmatikoteta kai ta gegonota, [...]. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 721df93 | To be able to see the Bosphorus, even from afar--for Istanbullus this is a matter of spiritual import that may explain why windows looking out onto the sea are like the mihrabs in mosques, the altars in Christian churches, and the tevans in synagogues, and why all the chairs, sofas, and dining tables in our Bosphorus-facing sitting rooms are arranged to face the view. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| be19e30 | Okudugun kitaptaki becerikli ve kederli kahraman bendim; mermer taslar, iri sutunlar ve karanlik kayalar arasindan rehberimle birlikte yeraltindaki kipir kipir hayatin mahkumlarina kosan ve yildizlarla kapli yedi kat gogun merdivenlerinden cikan yolcu bendim; ucurumu asan koprunun oteki ucundaki sevgilisine, "Ben senim!" diye seslenen ve yazari onu kayirdigi icin sigara kullugundeki zehir izlerini cozen kul yutmaz dedektif bendim... Sen sab.. | kahraman okumak | Orhan Pamuk | |
| abea2c2 | Like most Turkish men of my world who entered into this predicament, I never paused to wonder what might be going on in the mind of the woman with whom I was madly in love, and what her dreams might be; I only fantasized about her. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 8603ab8 | They, like me, like all of us, had, once upon a time, in a past so far away it seemed like heaven, caught by chance a glimpse of an inner essence, only to forget what it was. It was this lost memory that pained us, reduced us to ruins, though still we struggled to be ourselves. | memory | Orhan Pamuk | |
| 4548d5d | Por que nos inquieta un hombre banado en lagrimas? Una mujer que llora puede considerarse una parte excepcional pero conmovedora y digna de pena, de nuestra vida cotidiana, la acogemos con sinceridad y carino. Pero ante un hombre que llora nos llena un sentimiento de desesperacion. Es como si para el hubiera llegado el fin del mundo o como si el hubiera llegado al limite de lo que podia hacer. | llorar | Orhan Pamuk | |
| 60752bd | De hecho, ?que es leer sino dibujar en el silencioso cinematografo de nuestra mente una de las cosas que el escritor nos describe con letras? | escritura lector lectura leer | Orhan Pamuk | |
| 8d5919f | Love is good for the skin. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 383b79b | Das echte Liebesleid nistet sich an der Basis unserer Existenz ein, erwischt uns unerbittlich an unserem schwachsten Punkt, greift von da auf alles andere uber und verteilt sich unaufhaltsam uber unseren ganzen Korper und unser ganzes Leben. Wenn wir unglucklich verliebt sind, dienen unsere samtlichen Leiden und Sorgen, vom Tod des Vaters bis hin zum banalsten Missgeschick, wie zum Beispiel einem verlegten Schlussel, als neuerlicher Auslose.. | lovesickness pain | Orhan Pamuk | |
| 7bd8065 | I read somewhere that luck is not blind, just illiterate. Luck, I mused, is a palliative for those who don't know probability and statistics. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| ba8ddd2 | The difference lies in the fact that in Istanbul the remains of a glorious past civilization are everywhere visible. No matter how ill-kept, no matter how neglected or hemmed in they are by concrete monstrosities, the great mosques and other monuments of the city, as well as the lesser detritus of empire in every side street and corner--the little arches, fountains, and neighborhood mosques--inflict heartache on all who live among them. The.. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| b4a3318 | Heroic dreams are the consolation of the unhappy. After all, when people like us say we're being heroic, it usually means we're about to kill each other--or kill ourselves. | heroics heroism orhan-pamuk snow | Orhan Pamuk | |
| 811c7fc | You can't start out again in life, that's a carriage ride you only take once, but with a book in your hand, no matter how confusing and perplexing it might be, once you've finished it, you can always go back to the beginning; if you like, you can read it through again, in order to figure out what you couldn't understand before, in order to understand life. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 1fd3416 | I amused myself with mental games in which I changed the focus, deceived myself, forgot altogether what had been troubling me or wrapped in a mysterious haze. We might call this confused, hazy state melancholy, or perhaps we should call it by its Turkish name, huzun, which denotes a melancholy that is communal rather than private. Offering no clarity; veiling reality instead, huzun brings us comfort, softening the view like the condensation.. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 84a2c3f | Hicbir sey, her seyi unutabilmenin verdigi huzurdan degerli olamaz. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 3721c02 | My prolonged study of these photographs led me to appreciate the importance of preserving certain moments for prosperity, and as time moved forwards I also came to see what a powerful influence these framed scenes exerted over us as we went about our daily lives. To watch my uncle pose my brother a maths problem, and at the same time to see him in a picture taken thirty-two years earlier; to watch my father scanning the newspaper and trying.. | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| 4cdfd53 | Kafamda bir tuhaflik var," dedi Mevlut. "Ne yapsam bu alemde yapayalniz hissediyorum kendimi." "Ben yanindayken bir daha asla oyle hissetmeyeceksin," dedi Rayiha anac bir tavirla. Mevlut cayhanenin camlarinda yansiyan Rayiha'nin hayalinin kendisine sefkatle sokuldugunu gorup bu ani hic unutamayacagini anladi." | Orhan Pamuk | ||
| f3f8b3c | Olive Wellwood had the feeling writers often have when told perfect tales for fictions, that there was too much fact, too little space for the necessary insertion of inventions, which would here appear to be lies. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| e030bc1 | He had been taught that language was essentially inadequate, that it could never speak what was there, that it only spoke itself. He thought about the death mask. He could and could not say that the mask and the man were dead. What had happened to him was that the ways in which it be said had become more interesting than the idea that it could not. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| e12e17d | It was hard for a man and a woman to be fiends with no under thought or glimpsed prospect of sex. They wanted to be friends. It was almost a matter of principle. She was as intelligent as any Fellow of King's - though he thought she did not know it - he was in love with her mind as it followed clues through labyrinths. Love is, among many other things, a response to energy, and Griselda's mind was precise and energetic. He wanted to make lo.. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| f19f345 | She was a thinking child, and worked this out. It hurt her, unlike most knowledge, which was strength and pleasure. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| e05986f | All English stories get bogged down in whether or not the furniture is socially and aesthetically acceptable. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| ed9a413 | You do not seem aware, for all of your knowledge of the great world I do not frequent, of the usual response which the productions of the Female Pen--let alone as in our case, the *hypothetick* productions--are greeted with. The best we may hope is--oh, it is excellently done--*for a woman.* And then there are Subjects we may not treat--things we may not know...We are not mere candleholders to virtuous thoughts--mere chalices of Purity--we .. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| 4a64f4d | We are a Faustian generation, my dear--we seek to know what we are maybe not designed (if we are designed) to be able to know. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| 76b1656 | Roland had learned to see himself, theoretically, as a crossing-place for a number of systems, all loosely connected. He had been trained to see his idea of his 'self' as an illusion, to be replaced by a discontinuous machinery and electrical message-network of various desires, ideological beliefs and responses, language-forms and hormones and pheromones. Mostly he liked this. He had no desire for any strenuous Romantic self-assertion. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| 3171024 | Something new, they had said. They had a perfect day for it. A day with the blue and gold good weather of anyone's primitive childhood expectations, when the new, brief memory tells itself that this is what is, and therefore was, and therefore will be. A good day to see a new place. | A.S. Byatt | ||
| 8e83002 | She was a thin, sickly, bony child, like an eft, with fine hair like sunlit smoke. | description hair imagery | A.S. Byatt | |
| 0b0379b | You know, all poetry may be a cry of generalised love, for this, or that, or the universe - which must be loved in its particularity, not its generality, but for its universal life in every minute particular. I have always supposed it to be a cry of ;unsatisfied love; - and so it may be indeed - for satisfaction may surfeit it and so it may die. I know many poets who write only when in an exalted state of mind which they compare to ;being i.. | inspiration love women | A.S. Byatt | |
| 8bcf401 | Everything you've done, everything you've seen, everything you've become, remains. You never can go back, only forward, and if you don't bring the whole of yourself with you, you'll never see the sun again, | the-future the-past | Michael Marshall Smith | |
| e8279f1 | I work in my study, taking the collections of words that people send me and making small adjustments to them, changing something here and there, checking everything is in order and putting a part of myself into the text by introducing just a little bit of difference. ("Substitutions")" | proofreading | Michael Marshall Smith | |
| 3ff4f1c | A strong man does not need a silent wife. | Kate Elliott | ||
| c8469c7 | I endeavor to be serious and you will not take me seriously | Sherwood Smith | ||
| 235a03b | But I'd also learned that the self might want one thing, but that didn't mean it was right. | Sherwood Smith | ||
| e1cc518 | No, my career as a warrior princess, short as it had been, was over, I thought morosely. Violence only works if you're good at it. Otherwise, it hurts too much. | violence warrior | Sherwood Smith | |
| 6dd347d | War is a convenient fix for government problems if it happens somewhere else. To other people. | Sherwood Smith | ||
| 33f88eb | If your opponent is better armed and has longer reach, then surprise is your only ally. And then you'd better hope he's half asleep. | enemy opponent strategy tactics wisdom | Sherwood Smith | |
| c67ce0b | One of the greatest gifts you can give your husband is your own wholeness. | Stormie Omartian | ||
| f3afcb6 | When asking God for direction, ask Him to give you ears to hear it and the will and strength to follow it. Say, "God show me what to do and enable me to do it." | direction god inspirational miracle | Stormie Omartian | |
| 7fd9413 | I'm not quite Machiavellian enough to set him up, but if he strays too close to the edge I might give him a nudge. | Joe Haldeman | ||
| df13666 | A man is the stories he tells about himself, and most of those stories are lies. Never look too closely. If you uncover his lies, it'll humiliate you both. Best just to live with the bullshit. | Dennis Lehane | ||
| 78eb310 | Twelve dead?" I said. "Jesus." | biblical brief humour i inspirational jesus perhaps said short surprise twelve whatever wit | Dennis Lehane | |
| b5cd105 | Grief," he said, "is carnivorous. It feeds whether you're awake or not, whether you fight it or you don't. Much like cancer. And one morning you wake up and all those other emotions--joy, envy, greed, even love--are swallowed by it. And you're alone with grief, naked to it. And it owns you." | Dennis Lehane |