“remember two things: i. that everything has always been the same, and keeps recurring, and it makes no difference whether you see the same things recur in a hundred years or two hundred, or in an infinite period; ii. that the longest-lived and those who will die soonest lose the same thing. the present is all that they can give up, since that is all you have, and what you do not have you cannot lose.”
“what we do now echoes in eternity.”
"thou must be like a promontory of the sea, against which though the waves beat continually, yet it both itself stands, and about it are those swelling waves stilled and quieted."
“the blazing fire makes flames and brightness out of everything thrown into it.”
“the first rule is to keep an untroubled spirit. the second is to look things in the face and know them for what they are.”
“reject your sense of injury and the injury itself disappears.”
“your days are numbered. use them to throw open the windows of your soul to the sun. if you do not, the sun will soon set, and you with it.”
“whenever you are about to find fault with someone, ask yourself the following question: what fault of mine most nearly resembles the one i am about to criticize?”
“death is a release from the impressions of the senses, and from desires that make us their puppets, and from the vagaries of the mind, and from the hard service of the flesh.”
"within a very little while, thou wilt be either ashes, or a sceletum; and a name perchance; and perchance, not so much as a name. and what is that but an empty sound, and a rebounding echo? those things which in this life are dearest but vain, putrid, contemptible. tho most weighty and serious, if rightly esteemed, but as puppies, biting one another: or untoward children, now laughing and then crying. as for
He can feel Death in the room, hovering in the shadows, over there beside the door, head averted, but watching all the same, always watching. It is waiting, biding its time. It will slide forward on skinless feet, with breath of damp ashes, to take her, to clasp her in its cold embrace, and he, Hamnet, will not be able to wrest her free. Should he insist it takes him too? Should they go together, just as they always have?
Sayfa 179 - Headline Book Publishing
Reklam
When I hear
the tuneful cries
of copper pheasants
they sound just like
my father and mother.
When deer from higher up
come tamely down to me
I realize how far I am
from the world.
Awakening at night and
poking embers from the ashes
this old man finds his company.
The mountains do not daunt me,
so I enjoy the hooting of the owl.
Each passing season
brings its own enchantment.
Of course, a more perceptive man
would find much more
to charm.
When I moved here
I did not mean to stay this long,
but five years have now passed.
This rough shelter
has become my home.
Sayfa 52 - [Duyduğumda ahenkli çığlıklarını bakır sülünlerin sesleri tıpkı annem ve babam gibi gelir. Daha yükseklerden gelen geyikler evcilleşip yanıma indiklerinde dünyadan ne kadar uzakta olduğumu fark ederim. Gece uyanıp küllerdeki közleri eşeleyerek bu yaşlı ad·Kitabı okudu
’They will hobble her and kill the spawn,’ said Strahl, who then spat to clear the foulness of the words. ‘Yesterday, Bakal, we would have joined in. We would have each taken her. One of our own knives might well have tasted the soft throats of the children. And now, look at us. Ashes in our mouths, dust in our hearts. What has happened? What has he done to us?’
‘He showed us the burden of an honourable man, Strahl. And yes, it stings.’
Uykuya dalmadan hemen önce, onun Rusça bir şeyler fısıldadığını duyuyorum, yumuşak ve neredeyse şefkatli. Kelimeleri anlamıyorum ama sesleri, tenimin altına yayılan bir sıcaklık gibi içime işliyor.
"Sen benim için yaratılmışsın."
"Dikkatli ol, velet ... Bazen tahtadaki taşlar piyon değildir. Bazen tahtayı ateşe veren kibrit çöpüdürler."
Reklam
Reklam