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وائل عشري
Goodreads Author
Member Since
March 2012
وائل عشري hasn't written any blog posts yet.
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سيدتان جادتان
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published
1943
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87 editions
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الوجه الحجري
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1963
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17 editions
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فرناندو بيسوا: رسائل ونصوص
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الورود حقيقية
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الجدران تهتف: جرافيتى الثورة المصرية
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2012
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مختارات الصدفة
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2023
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رسائل السنوات الأخيرة
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الإغراء قبل الأخير للسيد أندرسون
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2013
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NO-ISBN: عن النشر الذاتي
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سأم نيويورك
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2005
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وائل’s Recent Updates
“ومثل غرباء عن كل مدينة ستكون عودتنا مزحتنا الخاصة. لهذه المدينة غربة أليفة، ونحن دائماً على وشك أن نسقط في حب لا نسقط فيه أبداً. لهذا طلبي هو ألا تضعي الحرب في حقيبة ملابسك حين تفاجئينني بالزيارة وأن تأتي بذلك الكتاب الذي مزّقنا غلافه وأعطيناه آخر، منذ عدة سنوات.”
― الإغراء قبل الأخير للسيد أندرسون
― الإغراء قبل الأخير للسيد أندرسون
“In general, I try and distinguish between what one calls the Future and “l’avenir” [the ‘to come]. The future is that which – tomorrow, later, next century – will be. There is a future which is predictable, programmed, scheduled, foreseeable. But there is a future, l’avenir (to come) which refers to someone who comes whose arrival is totally unexpected. For me, that is the real future. That which is totally unpredictable. The Other who comes without my being able to anticipate their arrival. So if there is a real future, beyond the other known future, it is l’avenir in that it is the coming of the Other when I am completely unable to foresee their arrival.”
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“Not to find one's way around a city does not mean much. But to lose one's way in a city, as one loses one's way in a forest, requires some schooling. Street names must speak to the urban wanderer like the snapping of dry twigs, and little streets in the heart of the city must reflect the times of day, for him, as clearly as a mountain valley. This art I acquired rather late in life; it fulfilled a dream, of which the first traces were labyrinths on the blotting papers in my school notebooks.”
― Berlin Childhood around 1900
― Berlin Childhood around 1900
“Melancholia is, I believe, a musical problem: a dissonance, a change in rhythm. While on the outside everything happens with the vertiginous rhythm of a cataract, on the inside is the exhausted adagio of drops of water falling from time to tired time. For this reason the outside, seen from the melancholic inside, appears absurd and unreal, and constitutes ‘the farce we all must play’. But for an instant – because of a wild music, or a drug, or the sexual act carried to its climax – the very slow rhythm of the melancholic soul does not only rise to that of the outside world: it overtakes it with an ineffably blissful exorbitance, and the soul then thrills animated by delirious new energies”
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— last activity Apr 14, 2019 10:44PM
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