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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #boo
En el muro de Facebook hay una opción que te permite añadir "Me gusta" al comentario o la foto de otro internauta. El pictograma es una mano cerrada con el pulgar hacia arriba. También ofrece la posibilidad, en caso de arrepentimiento, de sustituirlo por un "Ya no me gusta". Eso es todo. La red social de Zuckerberg no admite la alternativa de matizar esa adhesión o ese arrepentimiento con algún estado intermedio, quizá titubeante o más gaseoso. Sólo acepta la rotundidad de un sí o un no, del blanco o el negro, con el pulgar hacia arriba o hacia abajo, sin medias tintas. La duda ha sido expulsada de esta arcadia digital y condenada a vagar por el desierto de territorios más lejanos y lentos, es decir, más literarios [...] Ahora bien, pensar consiste justamente en lo contrario. Pensar implica el compromiso radical de ir un paso más allá del "Me gusta" o "No me gusta", de suspender la fase infantil de la imposición caprichosa de nuestros antojos. Aquí no sirve eso tan socorrido del "Porque lo digo yo" y el puñetazo en la mesa. Hay que razonar, justificar, argumentar con palabras de peso nuestro amor, nuestro rechazo, lo cual es complicado e incómodo, ya que puedes equivocarte o quedar en ridículo. O puedes caer en la paradoja de aquel personaje de Monterroso, un escritor cuya esposa, tras desvelar los hábitos de trabajo de él, concluía: «Cuando no se le ocurre nada escribe pensamientos». ↗
I make so many plans but fail at follow-through. Gemini mind once a mat for you to wipe your feet. I’d beg for it. I’d plead 'Here! I’m here waiting for you to be the one. Take my heart, my life, my air: rip them to shreds and hand them back.No need to worry. I have enough superglue and tears to keep me busy for months... ↗
I love bookshelves, and stacks of books, spines, typography, and the feel of pages between my fingertips. I love bookmarks, and old bindings, and stars in margins next to beautiful passages. I love exuberant underlinings that recall to me a swoon of language-love from a long-ago reading, something I hoped to remember. I love book plates, and inscriptions in gifts from loved ones, I love author signatures, and I love books sitting around reminding me of them, being present in my life, being. I love books. Not just for what they contain. I love them as objects too, as ever-present reminders of what they contain, and because they are beautiful. They are one of my favorite things in life, really at the tiptop of the list, easily my favorite inanimate things in existence, and ... I am just not cottoning on to this idea of making them ... not exist anymore. Making them cease to take up space in the world, in my life? No, please do not take away the physical reality of my books. ↗
I wasn’t reading poetry because my aim was to work my way through English Literature in Prose A–Z. But this was different. I read [in, Murder in the Cathedral by T.S. Eliot]: This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy. I started to cry. (…)The unfamiliar and beautiful play made things bearable that day, and the things it made bearable were another failed family—the first one was not my fault, but all adopted children blame themselves. The second failure was definitely my fault. I was confused about sex and sexuality, and upset about the straightforward practical problems of where to live, what to eat, and how to do my A levels. I had no one to help me, but the T.S. Eliot helped me. So when people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn’t be read at school because it is irrelevant, or any of the strange and stupid things that are said about poetry and its place in our lives, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language—and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers—a language powerful enough to say how it is. It isn’t a hiding place. It is a finding place. ↗
Fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge. Only Fools despise wisdom and discipline." Proverbs 1:7 NLT ↗
#black-book-author #christian #christian-life #inspiration #motivation
The next morning I told Mom I couldn't go to school again, She asked what was wrong. I told her, "The same thing that’s always wrong." "You're sick?" "I'm sad." "About Dad?" "About everything.." She sat down on the bed next to me, even though I knew she was in a hurry. "What's everything?" I started counting on my fingers: "The meat and dairy products in our refrigerator, fistfights, car accidents, Larry-" "Who's Larry?" "The homeless guy in front of the Museum of Natural History who always says ‘I promise it’s for food’ after he asks for money." She turned around and I zipped her dress while I kept counting. "How you don’t know who Larry is, even though you probably see him all the time, how Buckminster just sleeps and eats and goes to the bathroom and has no ‘raison d’etre’, the short ugly guy with no neck who takes tickets at the IMAX theater, how the sun is going to explode one day, how every birthday I always get at least one thing I already have, poor people who get fat because they eat junk food because it’s cheaper…" That was when I ran out of fingers, but my list was just getting started, and I wanted it to be long, because I knew she wouldn't leave while I was still going. "... domesticated animals, how I have a domesticated animal, nightmares, Microsoft Windows, old people who sit around all day because no one remembers to spend time with them and they’re embarrassed to ask people to spend time with them, secrets, dial phones, how Chinese waitresses smile even when there’s nothing funny or happy, and also how Chinese people own Mexican restaurants but Mexican people never own Chinese restaurants, mirrors, tape decks, my unpopularity in school, Grandma’s coupons, storage facilities, people who don’t know what the Internet is, bad handwriting, beautiful songs, how there won’t be humans in fifty years-" "Who said there won't be humans in fifty years?" I asked her, "Are you an optimist or a pessimist?" She looked at her watch and said, "I'm optimistic." "Then I have some bed news for you, because humans are going to destroy each other as soon as it becomes easy enough to, which will be very soon.” "Why do beautiful songs make you sad?" "Because they aren't true." "Never?" "Nothing is beautiful and true. ↗
#depression #heavy-boots #jonathan-safran-foer #sadness #beauty
Life is wonderful and strange...and it’s also absolutely mundane and tiresome. It’s hilarious and it’s deadening. It’s a big, screwed-up morass of beauty and change and fear and all our lives we oscillate between awe and tedium. I think stories are the place to explore that inherent weirdness; that movement from the fantastic to the prosaic that is life.... What interests me—and interests me totally—is how we as living human beings can balance the brief, warm, intensely complicated fingersnap of our lives against the colossal, indifferent, and desolate scales of the universe. Earth is four-and-a-half billion years old. Rocks in your backyard are moving if you could only stand still enough to watch. You get hernias because, eons ago, you used to be a fish. So how in the world are we supposed to measure our lives—which involve things like opening birthday cards, stepping on our kids’ LEGOs, and buying toilet paper at Safeway—against the absolutely incomprehensible vastness of the universe? How? We stare into the fire. We turn to friends, bartenders, lovers, priests, drug-dealers, painters, writers. Isn’t that why we seek each other out, why people go to churches and temples, why we read books? So that we can find out if life occasionally sets other people trembling, too? ↗
