“I wanted to rub the human race in its own vomit, and force it to look in the mirror.”
“After being bombarded endlessly by road-safety propaganda it was almost a relief to find myself in an actual accident.”
“Trying to exhaust himself, Vaughan devised an endless almanac of terrifying wounds and insane collisions: The lungs of elderly men punctured by door-handles; the chests of young women impaled on steering-columns; the cheek of handsome youths torn on the chromium latches of quarter-lights. To Vaughan, these wounds formed the key to a new sexuality, born from a perverse technology. The images of these wounds hung in the gallery of his mind, like exhibits in the museum of a slaughterhouse.”
“We live in a world ruled by fictions of every kind—mass merchandising, advertising, politics conducted as a branch of advertising, the instant translation of science and technology into popular imagery, the increasing blurring and intermingling of identities within the realm of consumer goods, the preempting of any free or original imaginative response to experience by the television screen. We live inside an enormous novel. For the writer in particular it is less and less necessary for him to invent the fictional content of his novel. The fiction is already there. The writer's task is to invent the reality.”
“I guessed that he was one of those ambitious young physicians who more and more fill the profession, opportunists with a fashionable hoodlum image, openly hostile to their patients. My brief stay at the hospital had already convinced me that the medical profession was an open door to anyone nursing a grudge against the human race.”
“The enormous energy of the twentieth century, enough to drive the planet into a new orbit around a happier star, was being expended to maintain this immense motionless pause.”
“The long triangular grooves on the car had been formed within the death of an unknown creature, its vanished identity abstracted in terms of the geometry of this vehicle. How much more mysterious would be our own deaths, and those of the famous and powerful?”
“Horns sounded from the trapped vehicles on the motorway, a despairing chorus.”
“Какая деталь разбивающейся машины поцеловала этот пенис на свадьбе его оргазма и хромированной ручки прибора?”
“We have annexed the future into the present, as merely one of those manifold alternatives open to us. Options multiply around us, and we live in an almost infantile world where any demand, any possibility, whether for life-styles, travel, sexual roles and identities, can be satisfied instantly.”
“This dreamlike logic hung over the entire afternoon.”
“Western parents try to respect their children’s individuality, encouraging them to pursue their true passions, supporting their choices, and providing positive reinforcement and a nurturing environment. By contrast, the Chinese believe that the best way to protect their children is by preparing them for the future, letting them see what they’re capable of, and arming them with skills, work habits, and inner confidence that no one can ever take away.”
“I’m a cat. We aren’t required to make sense.”
“«Μια μέρα ο Αλλάχ βρέθηκε μπόσικος, έπιασε φωτιά και κοπριά κι έπλασε το Ρωμιό. Μα ευτύς, ως τον είδε, το μετάνιωσε. Είχε ένα μάτι ο αφιλότιμος που τρυπούσε ατσάλι. «Τι να γίνει τώρα, μουρμούρισε ο Αλλάχ, την έπαθα. Ας πιάσω να κάμω τώρα τον Τούρκο, να σφάξει το Ρωμιό, να βρει ο κόσμος την ησυχία του.» Και ευτύς, χωρίς να χασομεράει, βάνει σ’ ένα ταψί τον Τούρκο και το Ρωμιό να παλέψουν. Πάλευαν, πάλευαν ως το βράδυ, κανένας δεν έριχνε το κάτω τον άλλον Μα ευτύς, ως σκοτείνιασε, βάνει ο άτιμος Ρωμιός τρικλοποδιά, κάτω ο Τούρκος! « Ο διάολος θα με πάρει, μουρμούρισε ο Αλλάχ, την έπαθα πάλι. Τούτοι οι Ρωμιοί θα φάνε τον κόσμο, πάνε οι κόποι μου χαμένοι… Τι να κάμω;» Ολονύχτα δεν έκλεισε μάτι ο κακομοίρης, μα το πρωί, πετάχτηκε απάνω και χτύπησε τις χερούκλες του: «Βρήκα βρήκα» φώναξε. Έπιασε πάλι φωτιά και κοπριά, κι έφτιαξε έναν άλλο Ρωμιό, και ους έβαλε στο ταψί να παλέψουν. Άρχισε το πάλεμα. Τρικλοποδιά ο ένας, τρικλοποδιά κι ο άλλος. Μπηχτές ο ένας, μπηχτές κι ο άλλος. Μπαμπεσιά ο ένας, μπαμπεσιά κι ο άλλος… Πάλευαν, πάλευαν, έπεφταν, σηκώνουνταν, πάλευαν πάλι, ξανάπεφταν, ξανασηκώνουνταν, πάλευαν… Κι ακόμα παλεύουν! Κι έτσι ο κόσμος βρήκε την ησυχία του…!»”
“Get you’re fucking hands off her,”
“The sudden silence is horrifying, and it seems to catch my mother off guard. A tiny whimper escapes her, the sound amplified in the stillness. Surely, my father hears her now; surely he and I can't go on pretending she isn't crying.”
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