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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #ear
He thought with a kind of astonishment of the biological uselessness of pain and fear, the treachery of the human body which always freezes into inertia at exactly the moment when a special effort is needed. He might have silenced the dark-haired girl if only he had acted quickly enough; but precisely because of the extremity of danger he had lost the power to act. It struck him that in moments of crisis one is never fighting against an external enemy but always against one's own body. Even now, in spite of the gin, the dull ache in his belly made consecutive thought impossible. And it is the same, he percieved, in all seemingly heroic or tragic situatuions. On the battlefield, in the torture chamber, on a sinking ship, the issues that you are fighting for are always forgotten, because the body swells up until it fills the universe, and even when you are not paralyzed by fright or screaming with pain, life is a moment-to-moment struggle against hunger or cold or sleeplessness, against a sour stomach or an aching tooth. ↗
لو كان العقل على قدر كلام الرجل، لكان الثرثار أكبر الناس عقلاً، ولو كان العلم على قدر حفظ المسائل لكان التلميذ أوسع من أستاذه علماً، ولو كان الجاه على قدر الفضائل لما كان للأشرار نفوذ، ولو كان المال على قدر العقل لكان أغنى الناس الحكماء، وأفقر الناس السفهاء، ولو كان الخلود على قدر نفع الناس لما خلد السفاحون والطغاة وأكثر الملوك والزعماء. ↗
BOB DIAMOND: "Being from earth as you are and using as little of your brain as you do, your life has pretty much been devoted to dealing with fear. DAN MILLER: "It has?" BOB DIAMOND: "Everybody on earth deals with fear. That's what little brains do." BOB DIAMOND: "Did you ever have friends whose stomach hurt?" DAN MILLER: "Every one of them." BOB DIAMOND: "It's fear. Fear is like a giant fog. It sits on your brain and blocks everything. Real feeling, true happiness, real joy, they can't get through that fog. But you lift it and buddy you're in for the ride of your life." (From the movie 'Defending Your Life') ↗
Ensuite, la peur se tourne vers votre corps, qui sent déjà que quelque chose de terrible et de mauvais est entrain de survenir. Déjà, votre souffle s'est envolé comme un oiseau et votre cran a fui en rampant comme un serpent. Maintenant, vous avez la langue qui s'affale comme un opossum, tandis que votre mâchoire commence à galoper sur place. Vos oreilles n'entendent plus. Vos muscles se mettent à trembler comme si vous aviez la malaria et vos genoux à frémir comme si vous dansiez. Votre coeur pompe follement, tandis que votre sphincter se relâche. Il en va ainsi de tout le reste de votre corps. Chaque partie de vous, à sa manière, perd ses moyens. Il n'y a que vos yeux à bien fonctionner. Ils prêtent toujours pleine attention à la peur. Vous prenez rapidement des décisions irréfléchies. Vous abandonnez vos derniers alliés: l'espoir et la confiance. Voilà que vous vous êtes défait vous-même. La peur, qui n'est qu'une impression, a triomphé de vous. Cette expérience est difficile à exprimer. Car la peur, la véritable peur, celle qui vous ébranle jusqu'au plus profond de vous, celle que vous ressentez au moment où vous êtes face à votre destin final, se blottit insidieusement dans votre mémoire, comme une gangrène: elle cherche à tout pourrir, même les mots pour parler d'elle. Vous devez donc vous battre très fort pour l'appeler par son nom. Il faut que vous luttiez durement pour braquer la lumière des mots sur elle. Car si vous ne le faites pas, si la peur devient une noirceur indicible que vous évitez, que vous parvenez peut-être même à oublier, vous vous exposez à d'autres attaques de peur parce que vous n'aurez jamais vraiment bataillé contre l'ennemi qui vous a défait. ↗
#life
Play it, Eddie, don't be foolish;' she urges. 'Now's the time, break the spell once and for all, prove to yourself that it can't hurt you. If you don't do it now, you'll never get over the idea. It'll stay with you all your life. Go ahead. I'll dance it just like I am.' 'Okay,' he says. He taps. It's been quite some time, but he can rely on his outfit. Slow and low like thunder far away, coming nearer. Boom-putta-putta-boom! Judy whirls out behind him, lets out the first preliminary screech, Eeyaeeya! She hears a commotion in back of her and stops as suddenly as she began. Eddie Bloch's fallen flat on his face and doesn't move again after that. They all know, somehow. There's an inertness, a finality about it that tells them. The dancers wait a minute, mill about, then melt away in a hush. Judy Jarvis doesn't scream, doesn't cry, just stands there staring, wondering. That last thought - did it come from inside his own mind just now - or outside? Was it two months on its way, from the other side of the grave, looking for him, looking for him, until it found him tonight when he played the Chant once more and laid his mind open to Africa? No policeman, no detective, no doctor, no scientist, will ever be able to tell her. Did it come from inside or from outside? All she says is: 'Stand close to me, boys - real close to me, I'm afraid of the dark.' ("Papa Benjamin" aka "Dark Melody Of Madness") ↗
This is a world where things move at their own pace, including a tiny lift Fortey and I shared with a scholarly looking elderly man with whom Fortey chatted genially and familiarly as we proceeded upwards at about the rate that sediments are laid down. When the man departed, Fortey said to me: "That was a very nice chap named Norman who's spent forty-two years studying one species of plant, St. John's wort. He retired in 1989, but he still comes in every week." "How do you spend forty-two years on one species of plant?" I asked. "It's remarkable, isn't it?" Fortey agreed. He thought for a moment. "He's very thorough apparently." The lift door opened to reveal a bricked over opening. Fortey looked confounded. "That's very strange," he said. "That used to be Botany back there." He punched a button for another floor, and we found our way at length to Botany by means of back staircases and discreet trespass through yet more departments where investigators toiled lovingly over once-living objects. ↗
