"I'm going outside; I may be some time." are inspirational words that men quote to this day, as they unbolt the back door and vanish down the garden path.
Sayfa 52Kitabı okudu
Everything pretty is destined to wither and die. To shrivel and vanish.
Trauma can also change a person beyond recognition. Sometimes you look at other people, then look in the mirror, and you feel hollow inside. You think, how did I become like this? I don’t even recognize myself.
Ordinary people pursue things, nothing but houses, cars, careers, love, position, dreams. They’re busy every day, each one of them holding a bellyful of worries and happiness. Their worries are genuine feelings, and their happiness is sincere. They don’t know what ‘inconstancy’ is. They think that today is the same as yesterday is the same as tomorrow. They won’t think, ‘I’m only an ant sitting on a dead leaf floating in the river that can overturn any time.’
But you’re different. You can’t spend your days like that. You’re like a hen that’s had its feathers scared off by a firework and can’t lay eggs anymore.—You look at other people and think that all the things they’re pursuing are illusions. You can’t treat them as real. They can vanish just like that. You have nightmares every day. Your head is full of vain hopes. You’re irritable, worried, anxious for absolutely no reason…
And It doesn’t pass. These things never pass.
There tends to be, in any movie or novel about time travel, some rule saying, Don’t go meddling in anything that is going to change the present. For example, going back and preventing your parents marrying or meeting would erase the circumstances of your birth and cause your present self to vanish.
“I used to cry in a genre no one read. / But ghosts say funny things when they’re family. This man and I, we take what will vanish anyway and move it aside, making space. There is so much room in a person there should be more of us in here. Traveler who is inches away but never here, are you warm where you are? Are you you where you are? Something must come of this. In one of the rooms in the house the man and I share, a loaf of rye is rising out of itself, growing lighter as it takes up more of the world. In humans, we call this Aging. In bread, we call it Proof. / How can we know, with a house full of bread, that it’s hunger, not people, that survives?”
Sayfa 63Kitabı okudu
“What we’ll always have is something we lost in the snow, the dry outline of my mother, promise me you won’t vanish again, I said. She lay there awhile, thinking it over one by one the houses turned off their lights I lay down over her outline, to keep her true. Together we made an angel. It looked like something being destroyed in a blizzard, I haven’t killed a thing since.”
Sayfa 12Kitabı okudu
So in answering the question of whether what is lost comes back, I study the most beautiful examples. Did Yusuf return to his father? Did Musa return to his mother? Did Hajar return to Ibrahim? Did health, wealth and children return to Ayoub? From these stories we learn a powerful and beautiful lesson: what is taken by Allah is never lost. In fact, it is only what is with Allah that remains. Everything else vanishes. Allah (swt) says, “What is with you must vanish: what is with Allah will endure. And We will certainly bestow, on those who patiently persevere, their reward according to the best of their actions.” (Quran, 16:96)
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“That’s the point of it, Bryce. Of life. To live, to love, knowing that it might all vanish tomorrow. It makes everything that much more precious.”
Sayfa 773 - DanikaKitabı okudu
"Mozart, not long after writing The Magic Flute, had died—in his thirties—of kidney disease. And had been buried in an unmarked pauper’s grave.
Thinking this, he wondered if Mozart had had any intuition that the future did not exist, that he had already used up his little time. Maybe I have, too, Rick thought as he watched the rehearsal move along. This rehearsal will end, the performance will end, the singers will die, eventually the last score of the music will be destroyed in one way or another; finally the name “Mozart” will vanish, the dust will have won. If not on this planet then another. We can evade it awhile. As the andys can evade me and exist a finite stretch longer. But I get them or some other bounty hunter gets them. In a way, he realized, I’m part of the form-destroying process of entropy. The Rosen Association creates and I unmake. Or anyhow so it must seem to them."
Chapter 9Kitabı okudu
"In practice, many translations try hard to comply with this requirement. Sometimes, however, translations run into what we might call 'performative self-contradiction'. The resulting incongruities in the text, remind us that, while we generally accept that translated texts are reoriented toward a different type of reader in a different linguistic and cultural envireonment, we expect the agent, and, hence, the voice, that affected this reorientation to remain so discreet as to vanish altogether. That is not always possible, ant then the translation may be caught blatantly contraidcting its own performance. And if we can demonstrate the translator's discursive presence in those cases, we can postulate a translator's voice, however indistinct, in all translations."
Sayfa 20 - Routledge Publishing
I’m Working on the World
I’m working on the world,
revised, improved edition,
featuring fun for fools,
blues for brooders,
combs for bald pates,
tricks for old dogs.
Here’s one chapter: The Speech
I don’t wanna die but I ain’t not keen on living either.
Fakat hatırlamak da unutmak gibi beyninizin size danışmadan gerçekleştirdiği eylemlerden biridir.
Gökyüzünde hangi yıldız yerinden bir milim oynamış hangi kara delik yönünü şaşırmıştı da İstanbul bir türlü son nefesini veremeyen bu canlı cesede dönmüştü?
Modern fizikle tanışmamış
