irene > irene's Quotes

“Walk on air against your better judgement.”
― Seamus Heaney

“Some other places were not so good but maybe we were not so good when we were in them.”
― Ernest Hemingway, The Short Stories

“The Wind Will Carry Us

In my night, so brief, alas
The wind is about to meet the leaves.
My night so brief is filled with devastating anguish
Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows?
This happiness feels foreign to me.
I am accustomed to despair.
Hark! Do you hear the whisper of the shadows?
There, in the night, something is happening
The moon is red and anxious.
And, clinging to this roof
That could collapse at any moment,
The clouds, like a crowd of mourning women,
Await the birth of the rain.
One second, and then nothing.
Behind this window,
The night trembles
And the earth stops spinning.
Behind this window, a stranger
Worries about me and you.
You in your greenery,
Lay your hands – those burning memories –
On my loving hands.
And entrust your lips, replete with life's warmth,
To the touch of my loving lips
The wind will carry us!
The wind will carry us!”
― Forough Farrokhzad

“Hello. My name is Henry. I am a fan. Somewhere in the late 1980s’, I got tired of people telling me to get a life. I wrote a book instead”
― Henry Jenkins, Fans, Bloggers, and Gamers: Media Consumers in a Digital Age

“...Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk.”
― Henry Jenkins

“The worst thing a kid can say about homework is that it is too hard. The worst thing a kid can say about a game is it's too easy.”
― Henry Jenkins

“And that moment when the bird sings very close
To the music of what happens.”
― Seamus Heaney, Field Work

“...the day shit is worth money, poor people will be born without an asshole”
― Gabriel García Márquez, The Autumn of the Patriarch

“...you'll see, he said, they'll go back to dividing everything up among the priests, the gringos and the rich, and nothing for the poor, naturally, because they've always been so fucked up that the day that shit is worth money, poor people will be born without an asshole...”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, The Autumn of the Patriarch

“Había empezado a vislumbrar que no se vive, qué carajo, se sobrevive, se aprende demasiado tarde que hasta las vidas más dilatadas y útiles no alcanzan para nada más que para aprender a vivir.”
― Gabriel García Márquez, The Autumn of the Patriarch

“I'm tired of begging God to overthrow my son, because all this business of living in the presidential palace is like having the lights on all the time”
― Gabriel García Márquez, The Autumn of the Patriarch

“God damn it, just a good minister of health which is the only thing anyone really needs in life, and maybe another one with a good hand for what has to be put in writing”
― Gabriel García Márquez, The Autumn of the Patriarch

“un hombre cuyo poder había sido tan grande que alguna vez preguntó qué horas son y le habían contestado las que usted ordene mi general,”
― Gabriel García Márquez, El otoño del patriarca

“una tarde de enero habíamos visto una vaca contemplando el crepúsculo desde el balcón presidencial, imagínese, una vaca en el balcón de la patria, qué cosa más inicua, qué país de mierda,”
― Gabriel García Márquez, El otoño del patriarca

“ella lo comprendió tan bien que en la primera tregua del miedo le había ordenado sin pedirle por favor general que me abra la ventana para que entre un poco de fresco, y él la abrió, que la volviera a cerrar porque me da la luna en la cara,”
― Gabriel García Márquez, El otoño del patriarca

“con la orden irrepetible de que en un plazo máximo de cuarentiocho horas lo encuentren vivo y me lo traen y si lo encuentran muerto me lo traen vivo y si no lo encuentran me lo traen,”
― Gabriel García Márquez, El otoño del patriarca

“Paths that cross will cross again.”
― Patti Smith, Just Kids

“We wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free.”
― Patti Smith, Just Kids

“Years after the war, after marriages, children, divorces, books, he came to Paris with his wife. He phoned her. It's me. She recognized him at once from the voice. He said, I just wanted to hear your voice. She said, it's me, hello. He was nervous, afraid, as before. His voice suddenly trembled. And with the trembling, suddenly, she heard again the voice of China. He knew she'd begun writing books, he'd heard about it through her mother whom he'd met again in Saigon. And about her younger brother, and he'd been grieved for her. Then he didn't know what to say. And then he told her. Told her that it was as before, that he still loved her, he could never stop loving her, that he'd love her until death.”
― Marguerite Duras, The Lover

“Very early in my life it was too late. It was already too late when I was eighteen. Between eighteen and twenty-five my face took off in a new direction. I grew old at eighteen. I don't know if it's the same for everyone, I've never asked. But I believe I've heard of the way time can suddenly accelerate on people when they're going through even the most youthful and highly esteemed stages of life. My ageing was very sudden. I saw it spread over my features one by one, changing the relationship between them, making the eyes larger, the expression sadder, the mouth more final, leaving great creases in the forehead. But instead of being dismayed I watched this process with the same sort of interest I might have taken in the reading of a book.”
― Marguerite Duras, The Lover