Gaurav Sagar > Recent Status Updates

The Drowned Man realised that he was the King of the Mist, and from then on that was how he started to think of himself-the King of the Mist.

The two moons were different in a way the were opposed to each other, but also identical at the same time. One was soft, rather damp, and tender. The other was hard as silver, shining and jingling merrily.

It was like a gradual, continual self immolation, in which human destinies, whose lives are thrown into the consuming flames of time.

The angel could see more than a man but not everything.

"It's the syllables. It hurts when I cut the words in two."

When I'm alone, I talk endlessly: to my dolls (lessons in bonnes manieres), at the walls and doors- nothing can stop me. I become a toilet flush, A Niagara Falls, a running nose, puke. With the family around, the words shrivel, become round and heavy stones, fall deep inside me, impossible to fish out again.

A lady of your position should not have too much brains- it upsets Gentleman. So, when a Gentleman speaks to you, keep your eyes lowered; listen- keep your eyes lowered, listened to him and don't answer back.

Faster and Faster: I was going to burst. Candles like weights, like sugared almonds, rose from my soles to my belly, and I was filled with syrup. Thick honey trickled from everywhere, and I was drowning in sweetness.

"They're dead, all of them," the doctor wrote. "Or they're sitting at the kitchen table leaning on their elbows. Not even a broken door and window can rouse the headmaster. Come winter he'll freeze his ass off." Suddenly he sat up straight up in his chair as a new thought dawned on him. He raised his head and stared at the ceiling, gasping for breath, then gripped his pencil... "Now he is standing up"

She rushed out of the house and sat outside, her fear and trembling suddenly gone, almost enjoying the sight of her possessions being reduced to ashes.

Now, my most dear friends.. What can I say! Our paths have crossed by chance but fate demands that, from this hour on, we stick together, inseparably together... Though I worry for you, ladies and gentlemen, on account of the chance you are talking. I must confess your trust moves me.. it feels good to be the subject of an affection of which I do not feel myself worthy....

Because Futaki was certain that neither this week-on-week, month-on-month cycle of failure in which the same but increasingly confused schemes suddenly and inevitably crumbled into ash, nor the even fainter longing for freedom, constituted a real danger: on the contrary, these were forces that held them together, because bad luck and utter annihilation were far from the same thing,

There was after all something to hope for, to wait for! Now at last, there would be an end to her sufferings, her agonies! How often had she dreamed of it imagined it? And now here it was. Here! The greatest moment of her life! Her eyes shone with hatred and something like contempt as she gazed at the shadowy faces around her. Inside she was almost bursting with happiness.

Halics's whole body felts as though it has lost definition and, as for his coat, it had lost whatever resistance to water it once had could nor it protect him from the roaring cataract of fate, or as he tended to say, "the rain of death in the heart," a rain that beat, day and night, against both his withered heart and defenseless organs.

At the end of Paleozoic era the whole of Central Europe begins to sink. Naturally, our Hungarian homeland is a part of this process. In the new geological circumstances the hill masses of the Paleozoic era sink ever lower until they rock bottom, at which point the sedimental sea inundates and covers them.

The precise, dry, unfamiliar language left them in no doubt that it was not a matter of proving their innocence- for to deny the charge or, conversely, to demand a hearing, would be waste of time- if only the opportunity might arise of general chat where they might state their position regarding an all-but-forgotten matter, establish their identities and perhaps modify a few personal details.

There is no exaggeration in saying that the entire destiny of a country depends upon its intellectual class. If the intellectual class is honest, independent and disinterested it can be trusted to take the initiative and give a proper lead when a crisis arises.

Chaturvarnya must fail for the very reason for which Plato's Republic must fail, namely that it is not possible to pigeon men in to holes, according as he belongs to one class or other. That it is impossible to accurately classify people into four different classes is proved by the fact that the original four classes have now become four thousand castes.

One by one like the 'muses leaving their father Apollo to go and bring light to the world', Ruskin's ideas left the godlike head which had borne them and, embodied in living books, went to bring instruction to the nations.

“I am a cage, in search of a bird.”

― Franz Kafka

Suddenly I'm all alone in the world. I see all this from the summit of a mental rooftop. I'm alone in the world. To see is to be distant. To see clearly is to halt. To analyse is to be foreign. No one who passes by touches me. Around me there is only air. I'm so isolated I can feel the distance between me and my suit. I'm child in a nightshirt carrying a dimly lit candle and traversing a huge empty house.

There are times when dreaming eludes even me, an obsessive dreamer, and then I see things in vivid detail. The mist in which I take refuge dissipates. And every visible edge cuts the skin of my soul. Every harsh thing I see wounds the part of me that recognizes its harshness. Every object's visible weight weighs heavy inside my soul.

There's a thin sheet of glass between me and life. However clearly I see and understand life, I can't touch it.

Wise is the man who has the potential for height in his muscles but who renounces climbing in his consciousness. By virtue of his gaze, he has all hills of his position, all valleys.

All life is a dream. No one knows what he's doing, no one knows what he wants, no one what he knows. We sleep our lives, eternal children of Destiny. That's why, whenever this sensation rules my thoughts, I feel enormous tenderness that encompasses the whole of childish humanity, the whole of sleeping society, everyone, everything.

The consciousness of life's unconsciousness is the oldest tax levied on the intelligence.

Civilization consists in giving something a name that doesn't belong to it and then dreaming over the result.

It was as it had been in life; there was no trace of the promised transfiguration; the thing that all the others had found in the machine, the officer himself had failed to find; his lips were pressed together, his eyes were open, their expression was that of living man, their look was firm and assured, and the point of the great iron spike had passed through the forehead.

The traveler cut him off. 'But how could I,' he exclaimed, 'it's completely impossible. I am as little able to help you as I am to harm you.'

Who am I when I feel? What in me dies when I am?