“Being or nothing, that is the question. Ascending, descending, coming, going, a man does so much that in the end he disappears.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“Why," he was saying, "why should one not tolerate this life, since so little suffices to deprive one of it? So little brings it into being, so little brightens it, so little blights it, so little bears it away. Otherwise, who would tolerate the blows of fate and the humiliations of a successful career, the swindling of grocers, the prices of butchers, the water of milkmen, the irritation of parents, the fury of teachers, the bawling of sergeant-majors, the turpitude of the beasts, the lamentations of the dead-beats, the silence of infinite space, the smell of cauliflower or the passivity of the wooden horses on a merry-g0-round, were it not for his knowledge that the bad and proliferative behaviour of certain minute cells (gesture) or the trajectory of a bullet traced by an involuntary, irresponsible, anonymous individual might unexpectedly come and cause all these cares to evaporate into the blue heavens.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“–Alors tu t’es bien amusée ?
–Comme ça.
–T’as vu le métro ?
–Non.
–Alors, qu’est-ce que t’as fait ?
–J’ai vieilli”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“— Snob mon cul, dit Zazie.
~
— Gentille mon cul, rétorqua Zazie.
~
— Grandes personnes mon cul, répliqua Zazie.
~
— Seule mon cul, dit la fillette avec la correction du langage qui lui était habituelle.
~
— Politesse mon cul, dit Zazie.
~
— Quelle colique que l’egzistence, reprit Madeleine (soupir).
~
— Tu causes, tu causes, c’est tout ce que tu sais faire.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“– Tonton Gabriel, dit Zazie paisiblement, tu m'as pas encore espliqué si tu étais un hormosessuel ou pas, primo, et deuzio où t'avais été pêcher toutes les belles choses en langue forestière que tu dégoisais tout à l'heure? Réponds.
– T'en as dla suite dans les idées pour une mouflette, observa Gabriel languissamment.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“L’essere o il nulla, ecco il problema. Salire, scendere, andare, venire; tanto fa l’uomo che alla fine sparisce. Un tàssi lo reca, un metró lo porta via, la torre non ci bada, e il Pàntheon neppure. Parigi è solo un sogno, Gabriel è solo un’ombra (incantevole), Zazie il sogno d’un’ombra (o di un incubo) e tutta questa storia il sogno di un sogno, l’ombra di un’ombra, poco più di un delirio scritto a macchina da un romanziere idiota (oh! mi scusi). Laggiù, oltre, un po’ oltre, Place de la République, si accatastano tombe dei parigini che furono, che salirono e scesero scale, andarono e vennero per le vie e tanto fecero che alla fine sparirono. Un forcipe li introdusse, un carro funebre li porta via e la torre si arrugginisce e il Pàntheon si screpola più presto di quanto le ossa dei morti fin troppo presenti non si dissolvano nell’humus della città tutto impregnato di affanni. Ma sono vivo, io, e qui s’arresta la mia scienza perché del tassimane sparito nel suo trespolo a tassametro o di mia nipote sospesa a trecento metri nell’atmosfera o della mia sposa, la dolce Marceline, rimasta presso il focolare domestico, in questo preciso momento io non so, e qui non so, se non questo, endecasillabicamente: eccoli quasi morti perché assenti.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“Mais Turandot sort brusquement de son bistrot et, du bas des marches, il lui crie :
"Eh petite, où vas-tu comme ça ?"
Zazie ne lui rèpond pas, elle se contente d'allonger le pas.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“-Perché vuoi fare la maestra?
- Per rompere le balle alle bambine, - rispose Zazie.- Quelle che avranno la mia età fra dieci, tra vent'anni, tra cinquant'anni, fra cento anni, fra mille anni. Aver sempre da rompere le balle a qualcuno.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“There's as many fish in the sea as ever came out of it. Fright though you are, you won't have any trouble in hooking another boy-friend.”
― Raymond Queneau, quote from Zazie in the Metro
“The shit bowl is always easier to clean once it's been flushed. You don't need to know who's sat and caused the stench.”
― Jack L. Pyke, quote from Backlash
“Good people?” Hangfire repeated. “Are you sure about that, Snicket? Would good people chop down a tree that was hundreds of years old, to erect a statue in honor of bloodshed? Would good people drain the sea, just so they could force ink out of the last few octopi? What do you think happened to the water that drained away? A whole valley was flooded. Countless creatures of Killdeer Fields were drowned, and an entire village was forced to leave their homes, just so the Knight family could add a few pennies to their ink fortune and the town could limp along for a little while longer.”
― Lemony Snicket, quote from Why Is This Night Different from All Other Nights?
“Is it Randall?” Oscar sounded out the name with care, as if testing dangerous waters. Camille closed her eyes and turned her face away from him, not wanting to have to see him when she said what she needed to say.
“I have a duty, Oscar, just like my mother did. She failed at hers and look what happened; she destroyed so much. My father asked me not to say anything, but if I don’t marry Randall…I’m sorry, Oscar, I just have to.”
Camille tried to edge by him, but Oscar held her back with his arm.
“Do you think I’m a fool, Camille? Don’t try to blame marrying Randall on some duty you think you have.”
She parted her lips to insist he was wrong. He cut her off.
“If this is how you really feel, then you had no right to ask me to stay with you that night. You gave me a taste of what being with you might be like, and now you’re asking me to walk away. Who do you think you are?”
Camille shook her head. He wasn’t listening. He had no idea how difficult it was for her, too, to have that one taste, that single moment of pure bliss to feed off of for the rest of her life.
“I don’t have a choice-“
He slammed his fist against the pantry shelf behind her.
“I don’t have a bank vault filled with money, or ten suits hanging in my closet to choose from each morning. I know I couldn’t give you all the things he could, but I can give you something he’ll never be able to. I love you, Camille,” he said, his mouth so close to hers his breath moistened her lips. “I love you. Not your last name or your pretty face or all the business opportunities you could bring me.” He laid his palm just beneath her neck, his thumb caressing the skin above where her heart lay. “Just you.”
She stared at him, unblinking, unable to breathe, let alone speak. Oscar’s arm fell away.
“You do have a choice, Camille. Or should I already be calling you Mrs. Jackson?”
He stormed from the pantry, Camille on his heels. Promise or no promise to her father, she had to tell Oscar everything.
“Please, Oscar, wait, if you’ll just listen-“
The companionway steps rattled, and Ira bounded into the galley. Oscar scooped up his shirt and shoved his arms inside the sleeves as Ira kicked out a bench at the table and sat down.
“I’ve never been so friggin’ tried in my life,” Ira said, grabbing a mug for coffee. “And I once played a game of poker that lasted two days.
Camille ignored him, Oscar’s anger still stinging. She’d created a massive mass. Ira peered at her, then at Oscar.
“Why’re you two all red in the face?” he asked. Then his cheeks drew up and his teeth glistened. Oscar caught him before he could speak.
“Save it, Ira,” he said, quickly glancing at Camille. She couldn’t plead with him to listen to her explain with Ira there. Oscar buttoned his shirt and left the galley. Ira directed his wily grin toward her.
“Save it, Ira,” she echoed, and resumed scrubbing the floor.”
― Angie Frazier, quote from Everlasting
“I'd rather be in danger with you than be safe without you.”
― Fuyumi Ono, quote from The Twelve Kingdoms: Sea of Shadow
“si se para uno a pensarlo, todo es bello en este mundo, salvo lo que nosotros mismos discurrimos y hacemos cuando olvidamos los fines supremos de la existencia y nuestra dignidad humana.”
― Anton Chekhov, quote from Racconti
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