“We have very primative emotions. It's impossible not to be competitive. Spoils everything, though.”
“where a man feels at home, outside of where he’s born, is where he’s meant to go.”
“Finishing is what you have to do. If you don't finish, nothing is worth a damn”
“All I wanted to do was get back to Africa. We had not left it, yet, but when I would wake in the night I would lie, listening, homesick for it already. Now, looking out the tunnel of trees over the ravine at the sky with white clouds moving across in the wind, I loved the country so that I was happy as you are after you have been with a woman that you really love, when, empty, you feel it welling up again and there it is and you can never have it all and yet what there is, now, you can have, and you want more and more, to have, and be, and live in, to possess now again for always, for that long sudden-ended always; making time stand still, sometimes so very still that afterwards you wait to hear it move, and it is slow in starting. But you are not alone because if you have every really loved her happy and untragic, she loves you always; no matter whom she loves nor where she goes she loves you more.”
“The best sky was in Italy or Spain and in Northern Michigan in the fall”
“Now, being in Africa, I was hungry for more of it, the changes of the seasons, the rains with no need to travel, the discomforts that you paid to make it real, the names of the trees, of the small animals, and all the birds, to know the language and have time to be in it and to move slowly.”
“For we have been there in the books and out of the books—and where we go, if we are any good, there you can go as we have been. A country, finally, erodes and the dust blows away, the people all die and none of them were of any importance permanently, except those who practised the arts,”
“I loved the country so that I was happy as you are after you have been with a woman that you really love, when, empty, you feel it welling up again and there it is and you can never have it all and yet what there is, now, you can have, and you want more and more, to have, and be, and live in, to possess now again for always, for that long, sudden-ended always; making time stand still, sometimes so very still that afterwards you wait to hear it move,and it is slow in starting.”
“A thousand years makes economics silly and a work of art endures for ever, but it is very difficult to do and now it is not fashionable.”
“They all wanted something that i did not want and i would get it without wanting it, if it worked.”
“Ако в ранни младини си платил своята дан на идеята за общество, демокрация и други такива, а след това откажеш да се обременяваш с неща от този род и решиш да отговаряш само пред себе си, ти заменяш задушевната и задушна атмосфера на приятелството срещу нещо, което можеш да изпиташ единствено ако си сам. Нещо, което все още не можеш точно да определиш, но го чувствуваш, когато пишеш хубаво и вярно нещо с вътрешна убеденост, и макар че ония, на които плащат да четат и коментират написаното, не го харесват и казват, че то е измама, ти си абсолютно сигурен в неговата стойност. Или когато вършиш нещо, което хората не смятат за сериозно занимание, а ти знаеш, уверен си, че то е важно и винаги е било, че не е по-малко важно от всички модни неща. Или когато си сам с това нещо в морето и знаеш, че Гълфстриймът, с който живееш, който обичаш, който познаваш и за който искаш да научиш повече си тече, както е текъл, откак свят светува, и е мил бреговете на този дълъг, красив, нещастен остров, преди Колумб да го е видял, и не нещата, които научаваш за него, и тези, които винаги са били в него, са нетленни и стойността им е непреходна, защото това морско течение ще тече така, както е текло след индианците, след испанците, след англичаните, след американците и след кубинците и всички различни системи на управление, ще тече, след като богатството и бедността, мъченичеството и саможертвата, продажността и жестокостта си отидат, отнесени като купищата смет — зловонни, яркоцветни, осеяни тук-там с нещо лъскаво, — които общинският шлеп изтърсва в синята вода, тя потъмнява на десетина метра дълбочина, по-тежкото потъва, по-лекото остава на повърхността и течението го подхваща — палмови клонки, тапи, бутилки, изгорели електрически крушки, някой презерватив или корсет, носещ се в дълбочината, откъснати страници от учебник, подут труп на куче, плъх, обезобразена котка, а събирачите на остатъци са тук с лодките си и подбират боклука както овчари стадото си, бъркат във водата с дългите куки и вадят интересни находки, заинтригувани, съсредоточени и точни като историци — това са хора с гледна точка, които преценяват. Течението е незабележимо, но отнася по пет такива товара боклук дневно, когато нещата вървят добре в Хавана, а на десет мили по-нататък водите му са пак тъй чисти, сини и неизменни, каквито са били и преди влекачът да е докарал на буксир шлепа с боклука. И палмовите клонки на нашите победи, изгорелите електрически крушки на нашите открития и просветления, празните презервативи на голямата ни любов плават безсмислено по течението, което единствено е непреходно.”
“and the palm fronds of our victories, the worn light bulbs of our discoveries and the empty condoms of our great loves float with no significance against one single, lasting thing—the stream.”
“Pop was her ideal of how a man should be, brave, gentle, comic, never losing his temper, never bragging, never complaining except in a joke, tolerant, understanding, intelligent, drinking a little too much as a good man should, and, to her eyes, very handsome.”
“To go down and up two hands-and-knee climbing ravines and then out into the moonlight and the long, too-steep shoulder of mountain that you climbed one foot up to the other, one foot after the other, one stride at a time, leaning forward against the grade and the altitude, dead tired and gun weary, single file in the moonlight across the slope, on up and to the top where it was easy, the country spread in the moonlight, then up and down and on, through the small hills, tired but now in sight of the fires and”
“The earth gets tired of being exploited.”
“If I believed in curses, I would believe that this is mine: when it matters most, in the moments when I know with the greatest clarity exactly what needs to be done, everything I say comes out wrong.”
“The quickest way to a man`s heart,' said the instructor, 'is proverbially through his stomach. But if you want to get into his brain, I recommend the eye-socket.”
“The sensation I was feeling on the clifftop was some sort of reverberation in the air itself.… The whale had submerged and I was still feeling something. The strange rhythm seemed now to be coming from behind me, from the land, so I turned to look across the gorge … where my heart stopped.… Standing there in the shade of the tree was an elephant … staring out to sea!… A female with a left tusk broken off near the base.… I knew who she was, who she had to be. I recognized her from a color photograph put out by the Department of Water Affairs and Forestry under the title “The Last Remaining Knysna Elephant.” This was the Matriarch herself.… She was here because she no longer had anyone to talk to in the forest. She was standing here on the edge of the ocean because it was the next, nearest, and most powerful source of infrasound. The underrumble of the surf would have been well within her range, a soothing balm for an animal used to being surrounded by low and comforting frequencies, by the lifesounds of a herd, and now this was the next-best thing. My heart went out to her. The whole idea of this grandmother of many being alone for the first time in her life was tragic, conjuring up the vision of countless other old and lonely souls. But just as I was about to be consumed by helpless sorrow, something even more extraordinary took place.… The throbbing was back in the air. I could feel it, and I began to understand why. The blue whale was on the surface again, pointed inshore, resting, her blowhole clearly visible. The Matriarch was here for the whale! The largest animal in the ocean and the largest living land animal were no more than a hundred yards apart, and I was convinced that they were communicating! In infrasound, in concert, sharing big brains and long lives, understanding the pain of high investment in a few precious offspring, aware of the importance and the pleasure of complex sociality, these rare and lovely great ladies were commiserating over the back fence of this rocky Cape shore, woman to woman, matriarch to matriarch, almost the last of their kind. I turned, blinking away the tears, and left them to it. This was no place for a mere man.… Early afternoon. They were coming to this place, to this tall grass, all along. They will feed here for a while and then, because there’s no water right here, go down to where those egrets are. There’s water there. After they’ve had a good drink, they might make a big loop and come back here again later to feed some more. It will be a one-family-at-a-time choice as the adults decide when to drink and bathe. When elephants are finally ready to make a significant move, everyone points in the same direction. But they do wait until the matriarch decides. “I’ve seen families cued up waiting for half an hour,” comments Vicki, “waiting for the matriarch to signal, ‘Okay.’” And now they go. Makelele, eleven years old, walks with a deep limp. Five years ago he showed up with a broken right rear leg. It must have been agony, and it’s healed at a horrible angle, almost as if his knee faces backward, shaping that leg like the hock on a horse. Yet he is here, surviving with a little help from his friends. “He’s slow,” Vicki acknowledges. “It’s remarkable that he’s managing, but his family seems to wait for him.” Another Amboseli elephant, named Tito, broke a leg when he was a year old, probably from falling into a garbage pit.”
“How do I know what I'm up for if you won't tell me what this is about?'
'It's about a friend,' she said simply. 'A blond woman with a sunshine laugh and the courage to light the world on fire.”
“That’s not the whole of it. As with many other faiths—including our own Christian one—a small group of zealots have distorted Islam to further their own agenda. When many women took to imitating the fashions of the Prophet’s wives, some Moslem men saw an opportunity to put all women under their thumb. They espoused foul laws like those allowing a man to beat his wife or force her into his bed.”
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