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@cicala
taşların ve ağaçların sırrını bilmeyi dilerdim
what else was that feeling of contained force, ready to burst forth in violence, that longing to apply it with her eyes closed, all of it, with the rash confidence of a wild beast? wasn’t it in evil alone that you could breathe fearlessly, accepting the air and your lungs? not even pleasure would give me as much pleasure as evil, she thought surprised. she felt a perfect animal inside her, full of contradictions, of selfishness and vitality.
“Kötü bir anıyı unutmanın en iyi yolu güzel bir tanesiyle değişmektir.”
the child was running wild, so thin and precocious... he sighed quickly, shaking his head. a little egg, that was it, a little live egg.
was “never” a man or a woman? why wasn’t “never” a son or a daughter? what about “yes”? oh, so many things were entirely impossible. you could spend whole afternoons thinking, for example: who had said for the first time: never?
precisely the things that really mattered she couldn't say. she only talked nonsense to people.
she always found a way to cast herself in the lead role precisely when events placed one character or another in the limelight.