Alıntılar-I
Karanlıktan korkan bir çocuğu kolaylıkla hoş görebiliriz. Yaşamdaki asıl trajedi, yetişkinlerin aydınlıktan korkmasıdır. (Eflatun)
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Compassion is an unstable emotion. It needs to be translated into action, or it withers. The question of what to do with the feelings that have been aroused, the knowledge that has been communicated. If one feels
“Oh Zarathustra, this is the big city: here you have nothing to gain and everything to lose.
Why do you want to wade through this mud? Have pity on your feet! Spit on the city gate instead and – turn around!
Here is hell for hermit’s thoughts; here great thoughts are boiled alive and cooked till they are small.
Here all great feelings rot; here only tiny, rattlebone feelings are allowed to rattle!
Do you not already smell the slaughter houses and kitchens of the spirit? Does this town not steam with the reek of slaughtered spirit?
Do you not see the souls hanging like limp dirty rags? – And they even make newspapers out of these rags!
Do you not hear how the spirit here turned into wordplay? It vomits dirty dish-word water! – And they even make newspapers out of this dirty dish-word water.
They hurry each other and know not where to. They heat each other up and know not why. They jingle with their tin, they jangle with their gold.
They are cold and they seek warmth in distilled liquors; they are over-heated and seek coolness in frozen spirits; they are all sick and addicted to public opinion. All lusting and malignancy are at home here."
On Passing ByKitabı okuyor
No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed, by some, to dream. Hill House, not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within; it had stood so for eighty years and might stand for eighty more. Within, walls continued upright, bricks met neatly, floors were firm, and doors were sensibly shut; silence lay steadily against the wood and stone of Hill House, and whatever walked there, walked alone.
