“One likes to think there’s something in it, that old platitude amor vincit omnia. But if I’ve learned one thing in my short sad life, it is that particular platitude is a lie. Love doesn’t conquer everything. And whoever thinks it does is a fool.”
Sayfa 251 - RichardKitabı okudu
TAOCULUK
Çin kökenli dinî-felsefî sistem.
Taoculuk (Taoizm, Daoizm), Konfüçyüsçülük’le birlikte 2000 yıldan fazla bir süredir Çin’de hayatın her alanını biçimlendirmiş iki büyük yerel dinî-felsefî sistemden biridir. Temelinde “yol” mânasında tao (dao) kavramının yer aldığı Taoculuğun Çince karşılığı Dao-cia’dır (yolun nesli). Kökeni eski Çin
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.
Bitch you love me?
Tell another lie
Frozen
Three forty-five hit me with the text
In the middle of the night.
His own opinion, which he does not air, is that the origins of speech lie in song, and the origins of song in the need to fill out with sound the overlarge and rather empty human soul.
Sayfa 4
“My intentions towards your daughter are simple,” I say with the calmest, most determined voice I can manage. “She’s mine.”
“Aiden!” she hisses.
I lift a shoulder. I won’t lie to Ethan. Not about this. He needs to know that I’ll fight for her. I’m ready to fight him, Jonathan, and the entire fucking world.
Hell. I’m ready to fight her if she doesn’t snap out of her stubbornness. It used to be adorable, now it’s pissing me off.
Only idiots liked men who they had no chance with.
But this was my curse—to love and care for people who didn’t love or care for me back. At least not the way I wanted them to.
That was another curse I hadn’t been able to shake off even after all these years; the need to be liked.
ROS: It could go on for ever. Well, not for ever, I suppose. (Pause.) Do you ever think of yourself as actually
dead, lying in a box with a lid on it?
GUIL: No.
ROS: Nor do I, really.... It's silly to be depressed by it. I mean one thinks of it like being alive in a box, one
keeps forgetting to take into account the fact that one is dead ... which should make a difference ...
shouldn't it? I mean, you'd never know you were in a box, would you? It would be just like being asleep in a box.
Not that I'd like to sleep in a box, mind you, not without any air - you'd wake up dead, for a start and
then where would you be? Apart from inside a box. That's the bit I don't like, frankly. That's why I don't think of it....
(GUIL stirs restlessly, pulling his cloak round him.)
Because you'd be helpless, wouldn't you? Stuffed in a box like that, I mean you'd be in there for ever. Even
taking into account the fact that you're dead, really ... ask yourself, if I asked you straight off - I'm
going to stuff you in this box now, would you rather be alive or dead? Naturally, you'd prefer to be alive. Life in a
box is better than no life at all. I expect. You'd have a chance at least. You could lie there thinking -
well, at least I'm not dead! In a minute someone's going to bang on the lid and tell me to come out. (Banging on the
floor with his fists.) "Hey you, whatsyername! Come out of there!"
What I’ve learned from my own experience, training, and clinical practice is that the answer may not lie within our own story as much as in the stories of our parents, grandparents, and even our great-grandparents. The latest scientific research, now making headlines, also tells us that the effects of trauma can pass from one generation to the next. This “bequest” is what’s known as inherited family trauma, and emerging evidence suggests that it is a very real phenomenon.
