A race that has fled its generations from city to city has not found the necessary time for the accumulation of that toughness which produces ribaldry, nor, after the crucifixion of its ideas, enough forgetfulness in twenty centuries to create legend.
From the mingled passions that made up his past, out of a diversity of bloods, from the crux of a thousand impossible situations, Felix had become the accumulated and single – the embarrassed.
Guido had lived as all Jews do, who, cut off from their people by accident or choice, find that they must inhabit a world whose constituents, being alien, force the mind to succumb to an imaginary populace. When a Jew dies on a Christian bosom he dies impaled.
Introduction by Winterson
For us, books have turned into fast food, to be consumed in the gaps between one bout of relentless living and the next. Airports, subways, maybe half an hour at bedtime, maybe something with the office sandwich, isn’t really ideal. At least at the cinema, or at the theatre, or at a concert, or even in a gallery, some real time has to be set aside. Books have been squeezed in, which goes a long way towards explaining why our appetite for literature is waning, and our allergic reaction to anything demanding is on the rise.
Introduction by Winterson
There is pain in who we are, and the pain of love – because love itself is an opening and a wound – is a pain no one escapes except by escaping life itself.
Introduction by Winterson
Our world, this one now, wants everything on the outside, displayed and confessed, but really it cannot be so. The private dialogue of reading is an old-fashioned confessional, and better for it. What you admit here, what the book admits to you, is between you both and left there. Nightwood is a place where much can be said – and left unsaid.
Introduction by Winterson
In our society, where it is hard to find time to do anything properly, even once, the leisure, which is part of the pleasure of reading, is one of our culture-casualties.
“Yaşarken onu çok iyi tanır, hiç anlamayız…”
Sayfa 139Kitabı okudu
“Tanrının seçtiği kimseler duvarın dibinden gider.”
Sayfa 44Kitabı okudu
Kendimizi yaratılmış nesnelere bağımlı kıldığımız ve
irademizi geçici amaçlara teslim ettiğimiz sürece hepimizi
aynı kurt kemiriyor demektir.
DJUNA BARNES
Sayfa 9 - Can YayınlarıKitabı okuyor
Madame Grows Older: A Journal at the Dangerous Age
“Alice,” I said, “be a man, pull yourself together. You still pulse with the eternal scheme of things. You know you do.” But my pulse tires me!
Madame Grows Older: A Journal at the Dangerous Age
My God, as I sit here I realize that I am perishable! O if that brute of an Einstein had only taken a fancy to my relativity! Time and space are my enemies. If it were not for time, I should not be dangerous, and if it were not for space, I should not feel so limited! How cruel is reason! How sharper than a serpent’s tooth is meditation! How subtle is the lack of reason!
The Diary of a Small Boy
I may not be old enough to put what I feel politely, but I feel what I feel, even if it is unpopular.
The Diary of a Dangerous Child
In another year I shall be fifteen, a woman must grow young again. I have cut off my hair and I am asking myself nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The Diary of a Dangerous Child
...and my heart stopped beating, and I could feel all the childish uncertainties I had suffered become hard and firm, and I knew that I should never again be a child.