“How do you compare sadness that takes over like an erupted volcano to sadness that stays inside one, still as a still-born baby?”
Bazı danışanlar, duygularını ifade etmeyi ya hep ya hiç önermesi gibi görürler. Bu danışanlar duygu volkanı kuramını (volcano theory of emotion) izlerler.
Duyguları birikene ve patlayana kadar hiçbir şekilde ifade etmezler.
How do volcano eruptions begin? Pressure. And it’s brewing inside of me. The fiery magma is rising, thickening with hatred, growing denser with bloodlust.
Eventually, I’m going to fucking explode, and I promise I will burn this entire goddamn house down with me.
The paradox of volcanoes was that they were symbols of destruction but also life. Once the lava slows and cools, it solidifies and then breaks down over time to become soil - rich, fertile soil.
She wasn't a black hole, she decided. She was a volcano. And like a volcano she couldn't run away from herself. She'd have to stay there and tend to that wasteland.
She could plant a forest inside herself.
On my volcano grows the grass, —
A meditative spot,
An area for a bird to choose
Would be the general thought..
Başlangıçta doğa vardı...
Human life began in flight and fear. Religion rose from rituals of propitiation, spells to lull the punishing elements. To this day, communities are few in regions scorched by heat or shackled by ice. Civilized man conceals from himself the extent of his subordination to nature. The grandeur of culture, the consolation of religion absorb his attention and win his faith. But let nature shrug, and all is in ruin. Fire, flood, lightning, tornado, hurricane, volcano, earthquake—anywhere at any time. Disaster falls upon the good and bad. Civilized life requires a state of illusion. The idea of the ultimate benevolence of nature and God is the most potent of man’s survival mechanisms. Without it, culture would revert to fear and despair.
Pantheon BooksKitabı okudu
Volkan! Nasıl tosun gibi bir Öztürkçe ad, değil mi? Alpaslan, Kutkan, Tarkan, Özkan. Volkan. Yok değil! Volkan Fransızca. İngilizcesi volcano'dur malum, yanardağ demek.
Sayfa 388Kitabı okudu
“She wasn’t a black hole, she decided. She was a volcano. And like a volcano she couldn’t run away from herself. She’d have to stay there and tend to that wasteland.
She could plant a forest inside herself.”
Sayfa 268Kitabı okudu
Bu alıntı da güzel, çok güzel.
“When I was five I asked my mother about love. She scooped me into her arms and spun me around, her laughter filling up the room. She said love was like a red, round balloon; there was a part of you that wanted to hold on to it, a part of you that longed to see it soar into the big, open sky.
At ten, I asked my mother again about love. A soft smile played on her lips when she said love was like a drowsy kitten that came to you, unbidden, crawled into your lap, and made you the center of its world.
The day I turned twenty, I dared to ask my mother one last time about love. She tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and held my young, hopeful face between her gentle hands. Her eyes were raw with longing when she answered, love is a dormant volcano, lying in wait, biding its time.”
"She wasn’t a black hole, she decided. She was a volcano. And like a volcano she couldn’t run away from herself. She’d have to stay there and tend to that wasteland.
She could plant a forest inside herself."
Sayfa 274Kitabı okudu