“In the act of writing he experiences, today, an exceptional sensual pleasure -- in the feel of the pen, snug in the crook of his thumb, but even more in the feel of his hand being tugged back lightly from its course across the page by the strict, unvarying shape of the letters, the discipline of the alphabet.”
― J.M. Coetzee, quote from The Master of Petersburg
“Ese es el gran secreto de las mujeres, eso es lo que les da ventaja sobre los hombres como nosotros. Saben cuándo ceder, cuándo echarse a llorar. Nosotros, tú y yo, no lo sabemos. Aguantamos, embotellamos la pena dentro de nosotros, la encerramos y cal y canto, hasta que se convierte en el mismísimo demonio. Y entonces nos da por cometer alguna estupidez, sólo con tal de librarnos de la pena, aunque no sea más que un par de horas. Sí, cometemos alguna estupidez que luego habremos de lamentar durante toda la vida. Las mujeres no son así, porque conocen el secreto de las lágrimas.”
― J.M. Coetzee, quote from The Master of Petersburg
“Stiff shoulders humped over the writing-table, and the ache of a heart slow to move. A tortoise heart.”
― J.M. Coetzee, quote from The Master of Petersburg
“He sits with the pen in his hand, holding himself back from a descent into representations that have no place in the world, on the point of toppling, enclosed within a moment in which all creations lies open at his feet, the moment before he loosens his grip and begins to fall.”
― J.M. Coetzee, quote from The Master of Petersburg
J.M. Coetzee
Born place: in Cape Town, South Africa
Born date February 9, 1940
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“That's the myth of it, the required lie that allows us to render our judgments. Parasites, criminals, dope fiends, dope peddlers, whores--when we can ride past them at Fayette and Monroe, car doors locked, our field of vision cautiously restricted to the road ahead, then the long journey into darkness is underway. Pale-skinned hillbillies and hard-faced yos, toothless white trash and gold-front gangsters--when we can glide on and feel only fear, we're well on the way. And if, after a time, we can glimpse the spectacle of the corner and manage nothing beyond loathing and contempt, then we've arrived at last at that naked place where a man finally sees the sense in stretching razor wire and building barracks and directing cattle cars into the compound.
It's a reckoning of another kind, perhaps, and one that becomes a possibility only through the arrogance and certainty that so easily accompanies a well-planned and well-tended life. We know ourselves, we believe in ourselves; from what we value most, we grant ourselves the illusion that it's not chance in circumstance, that opportunity itself isn't the defining issue. We want the high ground; we want our own worth to be acknowledged. Morality, intelligence, values--we want those things measured and counted. We want it to be about Us.
Yes, if we were down there, if we were the damned of the American cities, we would not fail. We would rise above the corner. And when we tell ourselves such things, we unthinkably assume that we would be consigned to places like Fayette Street fully equipped, with all the graces and disciplines, talents and training that we now posses. Our parents would still be our parents, our teachers still our teachers, our broker still our broker. Amid the stench of so much defeat and despair, we would kick fate in the teeth and claim our deserved victory. We would escape to live the life we were supposed to live, the life we are living now. We would be saved, and as it always is in matters of salvation, we know this as a matter of perfect, pristine faith.
Why? The truth is plain:
We were not born to be niggers.”
― David Simon, quote from The Corner: A Year in the Life of an Inner-City Neighborhood
“We circled around and came in from the northwest.” I lifted my wrist to show him the compass on my watch band, although I hoped that, being the pilot, he knew we’d approached from the northwest. “I was looking out the window. I saw a woman running down the street. There was a pack of dogs after her and a guy with a switchblade down the street in the direction she was running.”
“Ma’am,” he said, still very patiently. I reached out and took a fistful of his shirt. Actually, at the last moment, I grabbed the air in front of his shirt. I didn’t think security could throw me out of the airport for grabbing air in a threatening fashion, not even in this post-9/11 age.
“Don’t ma’am me . . .”
― C.E. Murphy, quote from Urban Shaman
“It’s when we feel the most uncertain,” her mother had told her, “that we must appear at our most confident. To show weakness is to allow others to prey upon it. Now brush your hair, lift your chin, and pretend you are the most powerful person in the room.”
― Morgan Rhodes, quote from Crystal Storm
“help meet. But who said anything about what he deserves? You can only realize your womanhood when you are functioning according to your created nature. To covet his role of leadership is to covet something that will not make God, you, or him happy. It is not a question of whether or not you can do a better job than he; it is a matter of doing what you were “designed” to do. If you successfully do the job of leading the family, you will not find satisfaction in it. It is far better that the job be done poorly by your husband than to be done well by you. Your excellence as a help meet to him may very well be God’s plan for improving his leadership role in the family. Your female nature cannot be retrofitted to the male role without permanent damage to the original design.”
― Debi Pearl, quote from Created to be His Help Meet
“إن المفترين على الحياة هم الذين يعيشون غالبا حياة طويلة و يانعة. و من المهم أن نقارن على سبيل المثال بين قدر شوبنهاور المفتري على الحياة و نيتشه الشاهد عليها، أو بين دي ساد المنحط جنسيا و لورنس الصوفي في الجنس”
― Colin Wilson, quote from The Mind Parasites
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