Displacement Quotes

Quotes tagged as "displacement" (showing 1-23 of 23)
Eric Hoffer
“The Jews are a peculiar people: Things permitted to other nations are forbidden to the Jews.

Other nations drive out thousands, even millions of people, and there is no refugee problem. Russia did it. Poland and Czechoslovakia did it. Turkey threw out a million Greeks and Algeria a million Frenchmen. Indonesia threw out heaven knows how many Chinese--and no one says a word about refugees.

But in the case of Israel, the displaced Arabs have become eternal refugees. Everyone insists that Israel must take back every single Arab. Arnold Toynbee calls the displacement of the Arabs an atrocity greater than any committed by the Nazis. Other nations when victorious on the battlefield dictate peace terms. But when Israel is victorious it must sue for peace.

Everyone expects the Jews to be the only real Christians in this world.”
Eric Hoffer

مريد البرغوثي
“The fish,
Even in the fisherman's net,
Still carries,
The smell of the sea.”
مريد البرغوثي

Thomas Hardy
“Many besides Angel have learnt that the magnitude of lives is not as to their external displacements but as to their subjective experiences.”
Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D'Urbervilles

Jaclyn Moriarty
“Distance is the journey. Displacement is the result.”
Jaclyn Moriarty, The Cracks in the Kingdom

Nayomi Munaweera
“In Sri Lanka, when two strangers meet, they ask a series of questions that reveal family, ancestral village, and blood ties until they arrive at a common friend or relative. Then they say, "Those are our people, so you are our people." It's a small place. Everyone knows everyone.

"But in America, there are no such namings; it is possible to slip and slide here. It is possible to get lost in the nameless multitudes. There are no ropes binding one, holding one to the earth. Unbound by place or name, one is aware that it is possible to drift out into the atmosphere and beyond that, into the solitary darkness where there is no oxygen.”
Nayomi Munaweera, What Lies Between Us

Jasinda Wilder
“I should have seen it coming.” The words don’t surprise me, but they piss me off. I pull away and glare down at her. “Don’t you fucking dare, Nell Hawthorne. Don’t you dare put this on yourself. You should never have to see shit like this coming.” She backs away, stunned and afraid by the intensity I know is radiating off me. “Colton, I just meant he’s always shown—” “Stop. Just stop right there. Granted, you should’ve never gotten involved with a douchetard like him, but that’s no excuse for what he did.”
Jasinda Wilder

Salman Rushdie
“mingling with the remains of the plane, equally fragmented, equally absurd, there floated the debris of the soul, broken memories, sloughed-off selves, severed mother tongues, violated privacies, untranslatable jokes, extinguished futures, lost loves, the forgotten meaning of hollow, booming words, land, belonging, home.”
Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

Bret Easton Ellis
“Everything suddenly seems displaced, subtle gradations erase borders, but it’s more forceful than that.”
Bret Easton Ellis, Glamorama

“To separate the Adivasi from his land is to stop his breathing. If you want to see an Adivasi's extinction, take him away from his land- as it is happening at present. It is a strange irony that when the Adivasi could lead a life of self- reliance, he is being compelled to become disabled and parasitic. The Adivasi, after having been uprooted from his land through the establishment of big projects in the name of public interest and national development, is ending up in slums in the peripheries of modern cosmopolitan cities as an army of landless labourers and domestic servants losing altogether their self- reliance and self- esteem.”
Ram dayal munda, adi-dharam

“Most of the institutions that come in to offer help after disaster don't have the resources to provide concrete help. . . . Donor communities invest billions funding peace talks and disarmament. Then they stop. The most important part of postwar help is missing: providing basic social services to people. Not having those resources might have been a reason men went to war in the first place; they crossed a border and joined an armed group because they didn't have jobs. In Liberia right now, there are hundreds of thousands of unemployed young people, and they're ready-made mercenaries for wars in West Africa. You'd think the international community would be sensible enough to know they should work to change this. But they aren't.”
Leymah Gbowee, Mighty Be Our Powers: How Sisterhood, Prayer, and Sex Changed a Nation at War

Dominique Wilson
“He didn't know what he was anymore – not truly Chinese, for he had spent too long in the West, adopted too many Western ideas, but neither did he feel truly Westernised. There had been times when he had thought himself so, but a glimpse at his reflection quickly showed him the impossibility of such thoughts. No, rather, he felt suspended between two worlds, never to truly belong to either. The Yellow Papers”
Dominique Wilson

Ania Walwicz
“You big ugly. You too empty. You desert with your nothing nothing nothing. You scorched suntanned. Old too quickly. Acres of suburbs watching the telly. You bore me. Freckle silly children. You nothing much. With your big sea. Beach beach beach. I’ve seen enough already. You dumb dirty city with bar stools. You’re ugly. You silly shopping town. You copy. You too far everywhere. You laugh at me. When I came this woman gave me a box of biscuits. You try to be friendly but you’re not very friendly. You never ask me to your house. You insult me. You don’t know how to be with me. Road road tree tree. I came from crowded and many. I came from rich. You have nothing to offer. You’re poor and spread thin. You big. So what. I’m small. It’s what’s in. You silent on Sunday. Nobody on your streets. You dead at night. You go to sleep too early. You don’t excite me. You scare me with your hopeless. Asleep when you walk. Too hot to think. You big awful. You don’t match me. You burnt out. You too big sky. You make me a dot in the nowhere. You laugh with your big healthy. You want everyone to be the same. You’re dumb. You do like anybody else. You engaged Doreen. You big cow. You average average. Cold day at school playing around at lunchtime. Running around for nothing. You never accept me. For your own. You always ask me where I’m from. You always ask me. You tell me I look strange. Different. You don’t adopt me. You laugh at the way I speak. You think you’re better than me. You don’t like me. You don’t have any interest in another country. Idiot centre of your own self. You think the rest of the world walks around without shoes or electric light. You don’t go anywhere. You stay at home. You like one another. You go crazy on Saturday night. You get drunk. You don’t like me and you don’t like women. You put your arm around men in bars. You’re rough. I can’t speak to you. You burly burly. You’re just silly to me. You big man. Poor with all your money. You ugly furniture. You ugly house. You relaxed in your summer stupor. All year. Never fully awake. Dull at school. Wait for other people to tell you what to do. Follow the leader. Can’t imagine. Workhorse. Thick legs. You go to work in the morning. You shiver on a tram.”
Ania Walwicz

Arundhati Roy
“When those who had been evicted went back to where they came from, they found their villages had disappeared under great dams and dusty quarries. Their homes were occupied by hunger-and policemen. The forests were filling up with armed guerrillas. They found that the wars from the edge of India, in Kashmir, Nagaland, Manipur, had migrated to its heart. People returned to live on city streets and pavements, in hovels on dusty construction sites, wondering which corner of this huge country was meant for them.”
Arundhati Roy, Capitalism: A Ghost Story

Gaurav Rao
“Displacement of 'What goes around, comes around' is Zero.”
Gaurav Rao

Emma Cline
“The things I was good at had no real application: addressing envelopes in bubble letters with smiling creatures on the flap. Making sludgy coffee I drank with grave affect. Finding a certain desired song playing on the radio, like a medium scanning for news of the dead.”
Emma Cline, The Girls

“She had sculpted the mist, the way those who have no choice do. She had willed a life for the two of us in a new land.”
Padma Lakshmi, Love, Loss, and What We Ate: A Memoir

“A man kills enough. A woman keeps on walking.”
Marie Clements, The Unnatural and Accidental Women

“Войну больше не называли обстоятельствами. Она стала явной. [...]

Прощались неявно, боясь напугать и испугаться самим. Но в последние дни мая, когда ничто уже не имело значения — ни деньги, ни возраст, ни цвет лица, ни знакомства, — стало ясно, что из всего на свете будет жаль только несказанного. Сурикова добавляла: "И необнятого".

В войне слова, конечно, уже потеряли смысл. Но все, что было до нее, оценилось остро, честно и, наверное, даже вовремя. Сказки, прочитанные детям. "Просто посиди со мной" — родителям. Ты — красивая. Благодаря тебе я стал тем, кем стал. Мне было плохо, когда ты ушел. Не стоило тогда расставаться навсегда. И да, ты прав, в этих импрессионистах (рамштайне, босхе, д[ж]астине тимберлейке, паэлье, сыре дорн-блю) что-то есть. И ты права тоже...

Уезжающие, уходящие, остающиеся искали не повод, а друг друга...”
Елена Стяжкина

Suzanne Rindell
“In those days, I straddled more than a handful of worlds, which is also to say I belonged wholly to none.”
Suzanne Rindell, Three-Martini Lunch

Kader Abdolah
“Wie nooit meer terug naar huis mag, raakt in een staat van verbeelding.”
Kader Abdolah, De kraai

Paolo Cossi
“Era il primo di cinque fratelli, il suo mondo erano i boschi, il lavoro e la povertà. Poi lo reclutarono e lo fecero prigioniero in una pianura, dove l’orizzonte nascondeva solo l’orizzonte. Tutto era strano ed incomprensibile per lui. Lui, che non si era mai mosso dal suo paese. Lui, che avrebbe scoperto luoghi nuovi da dietro un fucile e conosciuto persone solo attraverso un mirino. Lui, che non sapeva che sarebbe morto in eterno.”
Paolo Cossi, 1914: Io mi rifiuto!

“What greater sorrow than being forced to leave behind my native earth?”
Euripides, Electra

“A few moments into the ride, I saw Reynaldo's figure down the road, walking erectly, holding something. Seeing him there, amid the banana trees and huts and roadside stands with petrol in Coke bottles, I felt a distinct envy: he belonged here, in this place. He strode with a correctness and security I knew I would never feel in this country.

Which was fine. Displacement, it was a valid way to live.”
Glenn Diaz, The Quiet Ones