مُروج أحمد

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.”
― Henry David Thoreau

“He is not to them what he is to me," I thought: "he is not of their kind. I believe he is of mine- I am sure he is- I feel akin to him- I understand the language of his countenance and movements: though rank and wealth sever us widely, I have something in my brain and heart, in my blood and nerves, that assimilates me mentally to him.”
― Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre

“Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste.”
― Charlotte Bronte

“وخطر لي أننا في الماضي كنا نعرف رجال السياسة بفضل الشعراء.
عرفنا سيف الدولة وكافور بسبب المتنبي .. لا العكس. ولكننا نريد اليوم أن نعرف الشاعر بالسياسي.
نقتل شعراءنا بالصمت ونقتلهم بالنسيان. وأردت أن أسأل إبراهيم: إن صح أن الشعراء هم ضمير الأمة، فما مصير الأمة التي تنسى شعراءها؟..

الحب في المنفى
ص39”
― بهاء طاهر