Jason

Add friend
Sign in to Goodreads to learn more about Jason.

http://www.jasonajudd.com
https://www.goodreads.com/jasonjudd

Echo Objects: The...
Rate this book
Clear rating

Jason Jason said: " This book is going to melt my face off. [That's a good thing:] ...more "

progress: 
 
  (page 10 of 296)
Apr 28, 2010 07:30PM

 
Deception
Jason is currently reading
bookshelves: currently-reading
Rate this book
Clear rating

 
The Brothers Kara...
Jason is currently reading
bookshelves: currently-reading
Rate this book
Clear rating

progress: 
 
  (page 135 of 796)
Feb 07, 2010 12:00PM

 
See all 4 books that Jason is reading…
Loading...
Cormac McCarthy
“When you die it's the same as if everybody else did too.”
Cormac McCarthy, The Road

Nicole Krauss
“Franz Kafka is Dead

He died in a tree from which he wouldn't come down. "Come down!" they cried to him. "Come down! Come down!" Silence filled the night, and the night filled the silence, while they waited for Kafka to speak. "I can't," he finally said, with a note of wistfulness. "Why?" they cried. Stars spilled across the black sky. "Because then you'll stop asking for me." The people whispered and nodded among themselves. They put their arms around each other, and touched their children's hair. They took off their hats and raised them to the small, sickly man with the ears of a strange animal, sitting in his black velvet suit in the dark tree. Then they turned and started for home under the canopy of leaves. Children were carried on their fathers' shoulders, sleepy from having been taken to see who wrote his books on pieces of bark he tore off the tree from which he refused to come down. In his delicate, beautiful, illegible handwriting. And they admired those books, and they admired his will and stamina. After all: who doesn't wish to make a spectacle of his loneliness? One by one families broke off with a good night and a squeeze of the hands, suddenly grateful for the company of neighbors. Doors closed to warm houses. Candles were lit in windows. Far off, in his perch in the trees , Kafka listened to it all: the rustle of the clothes being dropped to the floor, or lips fluttering along naked shoulders, beds creaking along the weight of tenderness. It all caught in the delicate pointed shells of his ears and rolled like pinballs through the great hall of his mind.

That night a freezing wind blew in. When the children woke up, they went to the window and found the world encased in ice. One child, the smallest, shrieked out in delight and her cry tore through the silence and exploded the ice of a giant oak tree. The world shone.

They found him frozen on the ground like a bird. It's said that when they put their ears to the shell of his ears, they could hear themselves.”
Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

Fyodor Dostoevsky
“The centripetal force on our planet is still fearfully strong, Alyosha. I have a longing for life, and I go on living in spite of logic. Though I may not believe in the order of the universe, yet I love the sticky little leaves as they open in spring. I love the blue sky, I love some people, whom one loves you know sometimes without knowing why. I love some great deeds done by men, though I’ve long ceased perhaps to have faith in them, yet from old habit one’s heart prizes them. Here they have brought the soup for you, eat it, it will do you good. It’s first-rate soup, they know how to make it here. I want to travel in Europe, Alyosha, I shall set off from here. And yet I know that I am only going to a graveyard, but it’s a most precious graveyard, that’s what it is! Precious are the dead that lie there, every stone over them speaks of such burning life in the past, of such passionate faith in their work, their truth, their struggle and their science, that I know I shall fall on the ground and kiss those stones and weep over them; though I’m convinced in my heart that it’s long been nothing but a graveyard. And I shall not weep from despair, but simply because I shall be happy in my tears, I shall steep my soul in emotion. I love the sticky leaves in spring, the blue sky — that’s all it is. It’s not a matter of intellect or logic, it’s loving with one’s inside, with one’s stomach.”
Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

A.A. Milne
“What I like doing best is Nothing."

"How do you do Nothing," asked Pooh after he had wondered for a long time.

"Well, it's when people call out at you just as you're going off to do it, 'What are you going to do, Christopher Robin?' and you say, 'Oh, Nothing,' and then you go and do it.

It means just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering."

"Oh!" said Pooh.”
A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

Roland Barthes
“Am I in love? --yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn't wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover's fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.”
Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse: Fragments

year in books
Kim
Kim
143 books | 101 friends

Tracey ...
312 books | 40 friends

Sheldon
91 books | 214 friends

Tierra
618 books | 40 friends

Daniell...
313 books | 124 friends

Francis...
136 books | 55 friends

Kat Tex
278 books | 70 friends

Erin
276 books | 55 friends

More friends…


Polls voted on by Jason

Lists liked by Jason