Öne Çıkan V. kitaplarını, öne çıkan V. sözleri ve alıntılarını, öne çıkan V. yazarlarını, öne çıkan V. yorumları ve incelemelerini 1000Kitap'ta bulabilirsiniz.
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Herkese bildiklerini yazmaları söyleniyor.
Çoğumuzun sorunu, yaşamın ilk aşamalarında her şeyi bildiğimizi düşünmemizdir - ya da daha yararlı bir ifadeyle, genellikle cehaletimizin kapsamı ve yapısının farkında değilizdir.
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Living as he does much of the time in a world of metaphor, the poet is always acutely conscious that metaphor has no value apart from its function; that it is a device, an artifice. So that while others may look on the laws of physics as legislation and Gad as a human form with beard measured in light-years and nebulae for sandals, Fausto's kind are alone with the task of living in a universe of things which simply are, and cloaking that innate mindlessness with comfortable and pious metaphor so that the "practical" half of humanity may continue in the Great Lie, confident that their machines, dwellings, streets and weather share the same human motives, personal traits and fits of contrariness as they.
Poets have been at this for centuries. It is the only useful purpose they do serve in society: and if every poet were to vanish tomorrow, society would live no longer than the quick memories and dead books of their poetry.
It is the "role" of the poet, this 20th Century. To lie.
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Bazılarımız ölmekten korkar; diğerleri insan yalnızlığından.
Profane, kendisinden başka hiçbir şeyin yaşamadığı böyle karadan veya deniz manzaralarından korkuyordu.
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Profane sighed. The eyes of New York women do not see the wandering bums or the boys with no place to go. Material wealth and getting laid strolled arm-in-arm the midway of Profane's mind. If he'd been the type who evolves theories of history for his own amusement, he might have said all political events: wars, governments and uprisings, have the desire to get laid as their roots; because history unfolds according to economic forces and the only reason anybody wants to get rich is so he can get laid steadily, with whomever he chooses. All he believed at this point, on the bench behind the Library, was that anybody who worked for inanimate money so he could buy more inanimate objects was out of his head. Inanimate money was to get animate warmth, dead fingernails in the living shoulderblades, quick cries against the pillow, tangled hair, lidded eyes, twisting loins . . .