MihaElla > Recent Status Updates

So tell me something. What does this phrase actually mean... Son of God?

A son of God, said Caiaphas, or sons of God. Considering that the Most High is our father, we are all sons of God. But one Son of God, that would mean that God, a spirit, the absolute spirit, conceived a baby. Such a thing is heathen arrogance.

Mary was stunned and scared. [...] Women showed themselves just as bad as men, if not even worse. But, at a sign from Jesus, Philip and Thaddeus went to Mary and brought her under the protection of his huge shadow. He told her in a loud voice, so that the crowd could hear too:

'Fear not, woman. Because the sins of the body are quickly cleansed. But a strong fire will come to burn the sin from the soul.'

Nu trebuie sa luati de bun nimic din ce inima voastra respinge, zise Isus hotarat. Ce inima poate tagadui legea iubirii? Insa iubirea se invata incet. […] Demonii obisnuintei, in primul rand. Demonii cararilor batatorite. Demonii a ceea ce numiti firea omeneasca. Nu e usor de iubit, dar trebuie sa va desprindeti cu aceasta cale. […] Omul este o faptura libera.

-Here, with us, the world is different, she said thoughtfully, we are big, solid, with big, heavy noses. But you float like butterflies.

-You are very beautiful, replied Nastasia. And... it's like you're made of stone. It seems to me that in Maran everything is made of stone. The houses, the trees, the people. Like... She snapped her fingers, trying to find the word. Carved, yes. You seem carved in stone.

There is life everywhere, Valinka was filled with amazement, looking at the cobwebs full of dried insect bodies and the long blades of grass that penetrated the room -- everywhere there is both death and life.

They remained silent, with their shoulders resting on the cold fence. Only once, after a long time, Ovanes allowed himself a touch of sincerity:

-Who are we to judge someone's actions? he sighed, opening a packet of incense.

- There are decisions and facts that cannot be subjected to judgment, said Vasili shortly.

'Nothing destroys more than lack of activity', his father liked to repeat. 'Lack of activity and laziness rob the meaning of life.'
Now Vasili understood how much truth was in his words. That's right, life is meaningless the moment man stops being useful to those around him. And how he can be useful to them? Only through his work.

Educatia, Vaso-djan, nu aici trebuie sa fie, a zis Satenik, batand cu degetul in fruntea varului ei, ci uite-aici, in inima -- si a pus palma pe pieptul lui.

Singura evadare din viata ei lipsita de nadejde a devenit lectura.

In imbratisarea lui, Voske se lumina si scanteia ca o piatra pretioasa, incalzea si umplea de sens tot ce-l inconjura, si din clipa aceea ea a devenit tot ce ii era si ii va fi lui mai scump in viata

I look carefully and, indeed, I see a movement: the uncle was standing reverently in the position of prayer, and at his feet it was as if two tom-cats were fighting, and one was winning, then the other, and this quite often, and then they jumped

Holy mother, I say, but where are these tom-cats from?

I'm still a stupid person, a bad fool: well, the late Jiga told me that I was stupid and that God put his hand on my head with the German back then. But why?"What is man, that you mention him, or the son of man, that you search him?" Where does it say that?

In Scripture

That's right, in Scripture, but do we remember this much? Woe to us as long as we remember, because we don't remember at all!

We are weak

I think this damned cold broke you!

yes, it broke me; It's cold here; oh, how cold it is! I wrote all of this down

you are not even dressed properly; your clothes won't keep you warm.

that is true; they really don't keep me warm at all - look, only socks keep warm; but I have an iron will -- and you can see how good it is to have an iron will

no, I said, I don't see

- Heh, the consciousness, the consciousness! said Fiona...

- I mean, why should I be ashamed, because maybe I have never even loved her, and now...look, Sonetka's kicked boots are dearer to me than Katerina's scrawny cat countenance; come on, can you say anything else now?

-Ei, constiinta, constiinta!

-Adica de ce sa-mi fie mie rusine, ca poate nici n-am iubit-o vreodata, iar acum…uite, si gheata scalciata a Sonetkai mi-e mai draga decat mutra ei de mata jigarita; ia, mai poti sa zici ceva?’

Golden night! Silence, solace, light, fragrance and beneficial warmth, giving liveliness.

There was floating something exhausting in the air, which disposed towards laziness, self-indulgence and dark desires.

If black and white are one and the same person, a preposterous situation is produced in which a single mind is supposed both to know something and not to know it, so that its white self should, by self-command, forget all the aims and intentions of its black self a minute earlier. The premise for such dual thinking is a totally split consciousness, with the brain’s functions being switched on and off like..

All my life I have been fascinated by every kind of monomaniac, by people with only one idea in their heads, for the more someone narrows his vision, the closer it will reach to infinity. Seemingly remote from the world, such people yet use their own special materials, like termites, to build a remarkable and thoroughly unique microcosm of that world.

What is it, Boris? asked the manager kindly

If you’ll excuse me, the fugitive stammered, I just wanted to know…may I go home?

Yes, Boris, of course you may, said the other with a smile.

Tomorrow?

The word was spoken so imploringly that the manager became grave too, and the smile vanished from his face.

No, Boris…not yet. Not until the war is over.

When will that be? When will the war be over?

And I had to think of the truth of an old saying - Goethe's I think: 'Collectors are happy people.'

Story 'The invisible collection'

Kostas closed his eyes, thinking of Defne, her intelligent eyes, her pensive smile, her sudden sparks of anger, her strong sense of justice and equality…What would she do if she were in his place now?

’Fight back, ashkim… Fight your way out.’

The years had etched fine lines on to her face, her cheeks had thinned slightly, but it was her eyes that had changed the most: a hard glaze had settled on those big, round brown eyes. His heart constricted as he saw how beautiful she still was.

The human mind was the strangest place, both home and exile. How could it hold on to something as elusive and intangible as a scent when it was capable of erasing concrete chunks of the past, block by block?

She wanted to wrap herself around his words, shielding them the way you would cup your palms around a flame against the blowing wind.

Her anger softened into sorrow, and sorrow into resignation, and resignation into a sense of numbness, swelling thickly, filling the emptiness inside.

Not a very sensible thing to do, I admit, to fall for someone who is not of your kind, someone who will only complicate your life, disrupt your routine and mess with your sense of stability and rootedness. But, then again, anyone who expects love to be sensible has perhaps never loved.

Her mother had understood unruly thoughts, naughty thoughts, the dark side of the moon.She once said, half jokingly, that she was too rebellious to be a good mum, too motherly to be a good rebel. Only now, after she was gone, did Ada acknowledged that, despite everything, she was a good mum— and a good rebel.

Time is a songbird, and just like any other songbird it can be taken captive. It can be held prisoner in a cage and for ever longer than you might think possible. But time cannot be kept in check in perpetuity.
No captivity is forever.

When the night kissed your skin, as it always did, you could smell the jasmine on its breath.