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1000Kitap Android UygulamasıÜCRETSİZ – Google Play'den indirin
ŞartlarGizlilikTopluluk KurallarıHakkımızdaReklam VerinİletişimKütüphanecilerDizinlerÇerez Politikası
©2024 · 1000Kitap Web Uygulaması · 2.36.17
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust, First Part
“You can’t, if you can’t feel it, if it never
Rises from the soul, and sways
The heart of every single hearer,
With deepest power, in simple ways.
You’ll sit forever, gluing things together,
Cooking up a stew from other’s scraps,
Blowing on a miserable fire,
Made from your heap of dying ash.
Let apes and children praise your art,
If their admiration’s to your taste,
But you’ll never speak from heart to heart,
Unless it rises up from your heart’s space.”
tr- "Yapamazsın, eğer hissedemezsen, eğer hiç
Ruhundan yükselir ve sallanır
Her bir dinleyicinin kalbi,
En derin güçle, basit yollarla.
Sonsuza dek oturacaksın, bir şeyleri birbirine yapıştıracaksın,
Başkalarının artıklarından bir güveç pişirmek,
Sefil bir ateşe üflüyorum,
Ölen kül yığınından yapılmış.
Bırak maymunlar ve çocuklar sanatını övsün,
Eğer hayranlıkları zevkinize uygunsa,
Ama asla kalpten kalbe konuşmayacaksınız,
Kalbinizin boşluğundan yükselmedikçe."
This happens because the gift is in our heart, while Allah is in our hand. And what is in the hand can be put aside easily. What is in the heart, we cannot live without—and would sacrifice anything to have. But sooner or later we need to ask ourselves what it is that we really worship: The gift or the Giver? The beauty or the Source and Definition of Beauty? The provision or the Provider? The creation or the Creator? The tragedy of our choice is that we chain our necks with attachments, and then ask why we choke. We put aside our Real air, and then wonder why we can’t breathe. We give up our only food, and then complain when we’re dying of starvation. After all, we stick the knife in our chest and then cry because it hurts. So much. But what we have
done, we have done to ourselves.
Pdf
Dream Of A Curious Man
Do you, as I do, know a zesty grief,
And is it said of you, 'curious man!'
I dreamed of dying; in my spirit's heat
Desire and horror mixed, a strange mischance;
Anguish and ardent hope were tightly knit;
The more the fatal glass was drained of sand
The more I suffered, and I savoured it;
My heart pulled out of the familiar, and
I was a child, eager to see a play,
Hating the curtain standing in the way...
At last the chilling verity came on:
Yes, I was dead, and in the dreadful dawn
Was wrapped. And what! That's all there is to tell?
The screen was raised, and I was waiting still.
Said he, 'tis not Life I seek, nor am I afraid of dying, (and at that Word, cut a Piece of Flesh from his own Throat, and threw it at 'em) yet still I would live if I could, till I had perfected my Revenge: But, oh! it cannot be; I feel Life gliding from my Eyes and Heart.
Sayfa 71Kitabı okudu
It made her think of the other stories that said his kisses might have been fatal, but they were worth dying for.
Sayfa 23Kitabı okudu
Dark-skinned Dagoskans, Styrian mercenaries, pale-skinned Union men, all mixed up together. People of all nations, all colours, all types, united against the Gurkish, and now dying together, side by side, all equal. My heart would be warmed. If I still had one.
-6-
Say, ‘Indeed, my prayer, my service of sacrifice, my living and my dying are for Allah, Lord of the worlds.’ (Qur’an, 6:162)
Sayfa 93
If nothing was worth living for it followed, didn’t it, that there was nothing worth dying for either.
Alemdağı'nda Var Bir Yılan, Altitudes, Angie, Arkadaş, Aylak Adam, Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down), Barla Lahikası, Bartleby, Belle, Benimle Oynar Mısın, Blackstar, Bohemian Rapsody, Bozkırkurdu, BWV 1062 Allegro Assai, Coventry Carol, Çavdar Tarlasında Çocuklar, Çengelköy Olur Masal, Çepçevre Bahar İçinde, Çeşmi Siyahım, Çiçek
Açmış Genç
Sayfa 83
Thanatos reaches me, and he cups my cheeks. He takes me in for several seconds.
“I love you,” he breathes.
Then his lips descend on mine.
My hands tremble where I grip his arms, and I want to weep and laugh all at once.
He breaks away. “I love you,” he says again, still cupping my face, his eyes searching mine.
“I do,” he insists. “I have been waiting for you from the moment I was first formed, long before you ever drew breath.” He takes my hand and presses it over his heart. “You have been here the whole time, even when I thought I didn’t want it, even when I believed love was a curse and a weakness.
“Nothing has ever been the same since we first crossed paths, Lazarus. Nothing will ever be the same again. And I swear to you, until my dying day, I will love you.”
“For the first time in several years, Russian journalism has been hit in its very heart,” he told Interfax. “A tragedy has happened in our profession that is impossible to make up for because there is and will be nothing like Anna Politkovskaya.”
Sayfa 436 - Igor YakovenkoKitabı okudu
yaşayanlara üzül
Brief, to the point, betraying no sense of hurt, but what a scree of emotion there is in the heart of this woman, her face incised with wrinkles. Love of her daughter, grief at her passing, but also pride that Ingeborg proved so reckless for the sake of people she did not know but who were nevertheless ill. And, of course, the pain of irredeemable loss.
Sayfa 353Kitabı okudu
The sound of my enemies dying torturous deaths for daring to go after my beloved Bonded. Mine. My Bonded. The Bonded I’ve waited millennia for, the one who completes me and is the reason I keep returning to this wretched place.
The heart that beats outside of my own chest.
Mine.
“I cannot live without you, Oleander. I won’t. I thought Nox dying was the worst thing that could’ve happened and then your heart stopped beating, and I knew that I couldn’t go on without you at my side. I love you too much to do that. It was only my bond keeping me from going after you.”