Efsun Ecem > Efsun's Quotes

“You look at me, you look at me closely, each time closer and then we play cyclops, we look at each other closer each time and our eyes grow, they grow closer, they overlap and the cyclops look at each other, breathing confusion, their mouths find each other and fight warmly, biting with their lips, resting their tongues lightly on their teeth, playing in their caverns where the heavy air comes and goes with the scent of an old perfume and silence. Then my hands want to hide in your hair, slowly stroke the depth of your hair while we kiss with mouths full of flowers or fish, of living movements, of dark fragrance. And if we bite each other, the pain is sweet, and if we drown in a short and terrible surge of breath, that instant death is beauty. And there is a single saliva and a single flavour of ripe fruit, and I can feel you shiver against me like a moon on the water.”
― Julio Cortazar

“The earth makes a sound as of sighs and the last drops fall from the emptied cloudless sky. A small boy, stretching out his hands and looking up at the blue sky, asked his mother how such a thing was possible. Fuck off, she said.”
― Samuel Beckett

“My anger subsides, I'd like to pee.”
― Samuel Beckett, Endgame

“But he had turned, little by little, a disturbance into words, he had made a pillow of old words, for his head.”
― Samuel Beckett, Watt

“These things I say, and shall say, if I can, are no longer, or are not yet, or never were, or never will be, or if they were, if they are, if they will be, were not here, are not here, will not be here, but elsewhere. ... The Unnamable”
― Samuel Beckett

“But I pushed and pulled in vain, the wheels would not turn. It was as though the brakes were jammed, and heaven knows they were not, for my bicycle had no brakes. And suddenly overcome by a great weariness, in spite of the dying day when I always felt most alive, I threw the bicycle back in the bush and lay down on the ground, on the grass, careless of the dew, I never feared the dew.”
― Samuel Beckett, Molloy

“Then a moment passed and all was changed.”
― Samuel Beckett, Watt

“Time is, time was, but time shall be no more.”
― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

“How did I escape? With difficulty. How did I plan this moment? With pleasure.”
― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

“You're like a witness. You're the one who goes to the museum and looks at the paintings. I mean the paintings are there and you're in the museum too, near and far away at the same time. I'm a painting. Rocamadour is a painting. Etienne is a painting, this room is a painting. You think that you're in the room but you're not. You're looking at the room, you're not in the room.”
― Julio Cortázar, Hopscotch

“Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.”
― James Joyce

“The great Gaels of Ireland are the men that God made mad,
For all their wars are merry, and all their songs are sad.”
― G.K. Chesterton, The Ballad of the White Horse

“Short cuts make long delays.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

“Çocuk, ellerini koynuna sokmuş büzülmüştü. Yaşlı adam geldi çocuğun yanma oturdu. Ocağın gür yalımları arkalarına tuhaf gölgeler düşürüyordu. Bu gölgelere bakarak adam, çocuğun kafasından ne geçiyor, anlayabilirdi. Yaşlı adam da uzun zaman bir yerde durmayan, yalımlara göre yer değiştiren gölgelere gözünü dikti.”
― Yaşar Kemal, Memed, My Hawk

“25 Mart 1935 adlı mektuptan
Etrafın seni sıktığı zaman kitap oku… Ben şimdiye kadar her şeyden çok kitaplarımı severdim. Bundan sonra her şeyden çok seni seveceğim ve kitapları beraber seveceğiz.”
― Sabahattin Ali, Canım Aliye, Ruhum Filiz

“Ben şimdi saatlerimi üşengeçliğe ayarladım.Yarına üşeniyorum mesela o yüzden bu gün dün.Yahut bira içmek çok yorucu geliyor sodayla sarhoş oluyorum. Üzerimi örtmektense üşümemem lazım. Bunları düşünmemek için de mektup bekliyorum.Mektupta her şey yazacak.Ben okumayacağım tahmin edeceğim ama fazla da düşünmeyeceğim.Böyle böyle zaman lastik gibi uzayacak.Bir elimden bırakacağım yarın olacak dün.”
― Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar

“...Ekrem kütüphane dolusu kitapları okuyarak Nevzat Hanıma aşık olmaya hazırlanmıştı.”
― Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar, Saatleri Ayarlama Enstitüsü

“Gökte bulutlar vardı,su katılmış rakı renginde.”
― Yusuf Atılgan

“Balıkçının gevezesine hiç rastlamadım. İnsan geveze ise balıkçı değildir. Balıkçı ise geveze değildir.”
― Sait Faik Abasıyanık, Mahalle Kahvesi

“...Ama sen üstadım beni pek sarmıyorsun, kusura bamya!
İşte bu hikayemizin kahramanı konsolosluktan emekli Vildan Bey'in Avrupa'da medrese görmüş kızı, "kusura bamya!" diyebiliyor, ardından da bir kahkaha savurabiliyordu.”
― Sait Faik Abasıyanık, Kayıp Aranıyor

“Herkes sakiz cigner ama cingene kizi tadini cikarir”
― Orhan Kemal

“In what will survive me
I am in harmony
with my annihilation.”
― Georges Bataille

“But in the night he woke and held her tight as though she were all of life and it was being taken from him. He held her feeling she was all of life there was and it was true.”
― Ernest Hemingway

“I wish I had died before I ever loved anyone but her.”
― Ernest Hemingway

“Tiger got to hunt, bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder 'why, why, why?'
Tiger got to sleep, bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand.”
― Kurt Vonnegut, Cat’s Cradle

“Language disguises the thought; so that from the external form of the clothes one cannot infer the form of the thought they clothe, because the external form of the clothes is constructed with quite another object than to let the form of the body be recognized.”
― Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus

“My meaning simply is, that whatever I have tried to do in life, I have tried with all my heart to do well; that whatever I have devoted myself to, I have devoted myself to completely; that in great aims and in small, I have always been thoroughly in earnest.”
― Charles Dickens, David Copperfield

“A hand of smoke took his hand, started him downward, if it was downward, showed him a centre, if it was a centre, put it in his stomach, where the vodka was softly making crystal bubbles, some sort of infinitely beautiful and desperate illusion which some time back he had called immortality.”
― Julio Cortázar, Hopscotch

“On the back part of the step, toward the right, I saw a small iridescent sphere of almost unbearable brilliance. At first I thought it was revolving; then I realised that this movement was an illusion created by the dizzying world it bounded. The Aleph's diameter was probably little more than an inch, but all space was there, actual and undiminished. Each thing (a mirror's face, let us say) was infinite things, since I distinctly saw it from every angle of the universe. I saw the teeming sea; I saw daybreak and nightfall; I saw the multitudes of America; I saw a silvery cobweb in the center of a black pyramid; I saw a splintered labyrinth (it was London); I saw, close up, unending eyes watching themselves in me as in a mirror; I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me; I saw in a backyard of Soler Street the same tiles that thirty years before I'd seen in the entrance of a house in Fray Bentos; I saw bunches of grapes, snow, tobacco, lodes of metal, steam; I saw convex equatorial deserts and each one of their grains of sand; I saw a woman in Inverness whom I shall never forget; I saw her tangled hair, her tall figure, I saw the cancer in her breast; I saw a ring of baked mud in a sidewalk, where before there had been a tree; I saw a summer house in Adrogué and a copy of the first English translation of Pliny -- Philemon Holland's -- and all at the same time saw each letter on each page (as a boy, I used to marvel that the letters in a closed book did not get scrambled and lost overnight); I saw a sunset in Querétaro that seemed to reflect the colour of a rose in Bengal; I saw my empty bedroom; I saw in a closet in Alkmaar a terrestrial globe between two mirrors that multiplied it endlessly; I saw horses with flowing manes on a shore of the Caspian Sea at dawn; I saw the delicate bone structure of a hand; I saw the survivors of a battle sending out picture postcards; I saw in a showcase in Mirzapur a pack of Spanish playing cards; I saw the slanting shadows of ferns on a greenhouse floor; I saw tigers, pistons, bison, tides, and armies; I saw all the ants on the planet; I saw a Persian astrolabe; I saw in the drawer of a writing table (and the handwriting made me tremble) unbelievable, obscene, detailed letters, which Beatriz had written to Carlos Argentino; I saw a monument I worshipped in the Chacarita cemetery; I saw the rotted dust and bones that had once deliciously been Beatriz Viterbo; I saw the circulation of my own dark blood; I saw the coupling of love and the modification of death; I saw the Aleph from every point and angle, and in the Aleph I saw the earth and in the earth the Aleph and in the Aleph the earth; I saw my own face and my own bowels; I saw your face; and I felt dizzy and wept, for my eyes had seen that secret and conjectured object whose name is common to all men but which no man has looked upon -- the unimaginable universe.

I felt infinite wonder, infinite pity.”
― Jorge Luis Borges

“Was it you that killed me, or did I kill you?" Abel answered. "I don't remember anymore; here we are, together, like before."

"Now I know that you have truly forgiven me," Cain said, "because forgetting is forgiving. I, too, will try to forget.”
― Jorge Luis Borges Legend