“There’s no science, plane ticket or clock stopping us. But if we kiss, it will end the world. And I’ve ended the world before. No one survived. Least of all me.” — iwrotethisforyou
“I live at the end of some interminable corridor which the lucky damned can call Hell but which the much unluckier atheists must simply get used to calling home.” — House of Leaves
“Who has never killed an hour? Not casually or without thought, but carefully: a premeditated murder of minutes. The violence comes from a combination of giving up, not caring, and a resignation that getting past it is all you can hope to accomplish. So you kill the hour. You do not work, you do not read, you do not daydream. If you sleep it is not because you need to sleep. And when at last it is over, there is no evidence: no weapon, no blood, and no body. The only clue might be the shadows beneath your eyes or a terribly thin line near the corner of your mouth indicating something has been suffered, that in the privacy of your life you have lost something and the loss is too empty to share.” — Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves
Algo así.
“Some such divine claim underlay not just ‘the occupation’ but the whole idea of a separate state for the Jews in Palestine […] Take away the divine warrant for the Holy Land and where were you, and what were you? Just another land-thief like the Turks or the British, except that in this case you wanted the land without the people.” — Christopher Hitchens | A ‘Non-Jewish Jew,’ Hitchens Welcomed Finding He Was Jewish–But Not Zionism
“
Obsessed, bewildered /
By the shipwreck /
Of the singular /
We have chosen the meaning /
Of being numerous.
When I go musing all alone
Thinking of divers things fore-known.
When I build castles in the air,
Void of sorrow and void of fear,
Pleasing myself with phantasms sweet,
Methinks the time runs very fleet.
All my joys to this are folly,
Naught so sweet as melancholy.
When I lie waking all alone,
Recounting what I have ill done,
My thoughts on me then tyrannise,
Fear and sorrow me surprise,
Whether I tarry still or go,
Methinks the time moves very slow.
All my griefs to this are jolly,
Naught so mad as melancholy.
When to myself I act and smile,
With pleasing thoughts the time beguile,
By a brook side or wood so green,
Unheard, unsought for, or unseen,
A thousand pleasures do me bless,
And crown my soul with happiness.
All my joys besides are folly,
None so sweet as melancholy.
When I lie, sit, or walk alone,
I sigh, I grieve, making great moan,
In a dark grove, or irksome den,
With discontents and Furies then,
A thousand miseries at once
Mine heavy heart and soul ensconce,
All my griefs to this are jolly,
None so sour as melancholy.
Methinks I hear, methinks I see,
Sweet music, wondrous melody,
Towns, palaces, and cities fine;
Here now, then there; the world is mine,
Rare beauties, gallant ladies shine,
Whate’er is lovely or divine.
All other joys to this are folly,
None so sweet as melancholy.
Methinks I hear, methinks I see
Ghosts, goblins, fiends; my phantasy
Presents a thousand ugly shapes,
Headless bears, black men, and apes,
Doleful outcries, and fearful sights,
My sad and dismal soul affrights.
All my griefs to this are jolly,
None so damn’d as melancholy.
Methinks I court, methinks I kiss,
Methinks I now embrace my mistress.
O blessed days, O sweet content,
In Paradise my time is spent.
Such thoughts may still my fancy move,
So may I ever be in love.
All my joys to this are folly,
Naught so sweet as melancholy.
When I recount love’s many frights,
My sighs and tears, my waking nights,
My jealous fits; O mine hard fate
I now repent, but ‘tis too late.
No torment is so bad as love,
So bitter to my soul can prove.
All my griefs to this are jolly,
Naught so harsh as melancholy.
Friends and companions get you gone,
‘Tis my desire to be alone;
Ne’er well but when my thoughts and I
Do domineer in privacy.
No Gem, no treasure like to this,
‘Tis my delight, my crown, my bliss.
All my joys to this are folly,
Naught so sweet as melancholy.
‘Tis my sole plague to be alone,
I am a beast, a monster grown,
I will no light nor company,
I find it now my misery.
The scene is turn’d, my joys are gone,
Fear, discontent, and sorrows come.
All my griefs to this are jolly,
Naught so fierce as melancholy.
I’ll not change life with any king,
I ravisht am: can the world bring
More joy, than still to laugh and smile,
In pleasant toys time to beguile?
Do not, O do not trouble me,
So sweet content I feel and see.
All my joys to this are folly,
None so divine as melancholy.
I’ll change my state with any wretch,
Thou canst from gaol or dunghill fetch;
My pain’s past cure, another hell,
I may not in this torment dwell!
Now desperate I hate my life,
Lend me a halter or a knife;
All my griefs to this are jolly,
Naught so damn’d as melancholy.
… o todas las anteriores.
“Los dejo ahora conmigo mismo; el que fui…” — Che
“Tenía deseos de fumar y saqué la pipa. Estaba, como siempre, en mi bolsillo. Yo no perdía mis pipas, como los soldados. Es que era muy importante para mí tenerla. En los caminos del humo se puede remontar cualquier distancia, diría que se pueden creer los propios planes y soñar con la victoria sin que parezca un sueño; sólo una realidad vaporosa por la distancia y las brumas que hay siempre en los caminos del humo. Muy buena compañera es la pipa; ¿cómo perder una cosa tan necesaria? Qué brutos.” — Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, La Piedra
(cli)Ché
I still get nightmares.
“Ten thousand things /
All in this breath /
Grasping hold of emptiness /
There’s really nothing left to say.”
— Amongst White Clouds
“The first rule of Bible Club is…”
“
Fear is the basis of religious dogma, as of so much else in human life. Fear of human beings, individually or collectively, dominates much of our social life, but it is fear of nature that gives rise to religion.
…
The good life is one inspired by love and guided by knowledge.
” — Bertrand Russell