“[T]hat state, love, is so utterly alien to that other idea without which we cannot live as human beings --- the idea of justice. It is only because love is so profoundly the enemy of justice that our minds, shrinking in horor from its true nature, try to tame it by uniting it with its opposite [...] in the hope that if we apply all the metaphors of normality, that if we heap them high enough, we shall, in the end, be able to approximate that state metaphorically.”
“There is something strikingly different about the quality of photographs of that time. It has nothing to do with age or colour, or the feel of paper. . . . In modern family photographs the camera pretends to circulate like a friend, clicking its shutters at those moments when its subjects have disarranged themselves to present to it those postures which they would like to think of as informal. But in pictures of that time, the camera is still a public and alien eye, faced with which people feel bound either to challenge the intrusion by striking postures of defiant hilarity, or else to compose their faces, and straighten their shoulders, not always formally, but usually with just that hint of stiffness which suggests a public face.”
“I know nothing of this silence except that it lies outside the reach of my intelligence, beyond words - that is why this silence must win, must inevitably defeat me, because it is not a presence at all.”
“That unthinkable, adult truth: that need is not transitive, that one may need without oneself being needed.”
“One could never know anything except through desire, real desire, which was not the same thing as greed or lust; a pure, painful and primitive desire, a longing for everything that was not in oneself, a torment of the flesh, that carried one beyond the limits of one's mind to other times and other places, and even, if one was lucky, to a place where there was no border between oneself and one's image in the mirror.”
“You see, in our family we don't know whether we're coming or going - it's all my grandmother's fault. But, of course, the fault wasn't hers at all: it lay in language. Every language assumes a centrality, a fixed and settled point to go away from and come back to, and what my grandmother was looking for was a word for a journey which was not a coming or a going at all; a journey that was a search for precisely that fixed point which permits the proper use of verbs of movement.”
“People like my grandmother, who have no home but in memory, learn to be very skilled in the art of recollection.”
“I could not persuade her that a place does not merely exist, that it has to be invented in one's imagination.”
“Which was more real, their dirty bathtubs and shared bedrooms or that other reality, waiting one week away? Most of all he would despair because he could not imagine what it would be like to confront the most real of their realities: that within two years three of the four of them would be dead. The realities of the bombs and torpedoes and the dying was easy enough to imagine--mere events, after all, recorded in thousands of films and photographs and comic books. But not that other infinitely more important reality: the fact that they knew; that even walking down that street, that evening, they knew what was coming--not the details, nor the timing perhaps, but they knew, all four of them, that their world, and in all probability they themselves, would not survive the war. What is the colour of that knowledge? Nobody knows, nobody can ever know, not even in memory, because there are moments in time that are not knowable: nobody can ever know what it was like to be young and intelligent in the summer of 1939 in London or Berlin.”
“Nobody knows, nobody can ever know, not even in memory, because there are moments in time that are not knowable.”
“I thought of how much they all wanted to be free; how they went mad wanting their freedom; I began to wonder whether it was I that was mad because I was happy to be bound; whether I was alone in knowing that I could not live without the clamour of the voices within me.”
“Need is not transitive, one may need without oneself being needed.”
“I wanted to watch her walking, unselfconscious, for as long as possible.”
“I was already well schooled in looking away, the jungle-craft of gentility.”
“For Ila the current was the real: it was as though she lived in a present which was like an airlock in a canal, shut away from the tidewaters of the past and the future by steel floodgates.”
“One of the many downsides to being a drug addict is never really knowing if the stuff is real.”
“And then I'm dancing, swept away by the music and the magic and Ryn's arms guiding me. We spin graceful circles around the floor. Ryn lets go of me and I twirl beneath his arm, laughing at the same time. It is so not me, and yet I find I'm actually enjoying it.
"See?" Ryn says, "This is easy. And you might possibly be having fun."
The magic guides me as I step out of Ryn's arms, twirl behind his back, and catch his hand. "You might possibly be right."
He pulls me back into position. "Oh, I forgot to tell you something," he says. He leans forward and his lips brush my ear as he whispers, "You are more beautiful than any other girl in this room.”
“Men do not attract that which they want, but that which they are.”
“Am invatat in munca mea, ca se tem cel mai mult de moarte cei care se apropie de ea avand prea multa viata netraita in ei. Cel mai bine este sa ne folosim toata viata. Sa nu-i lasam mortii decat drojdiile, nimic altceva decat un castel ars pana in temelii.”
“যক্ষপুরীর হাওয়ায় সুন্দরের পরে অবজ্ঞা ঘটিয়ে দেয়, এইটেই সর্বনেশে। নরকেও সুন্দর আছে, কিন্তু সুন্দরকে কেউ সেখানে বুঝতেই পারে না, নরকবাসীর সব চেয়ে বড়ো সাজা তাই।”
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