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Read through the most famous quotes by topic #magi
The vocabulary of endearment, complaint, and abuse, provides, I think, almost the only specimens of words that are purely emotional, words from which all imaginative or conceptual content has vanished, so that they have no function at all but to express or stimulate emotion, or both. And an examination of them soon convinces us that in them we see language at its least linguistic. We have come to the frontier between language and inarticulate vocal sounds. And at that frontier we find a two-way traffic going on. ↗
I knew now what my earlier passion for Harry had hidden from me. That although I had bedded him as a free woman I was as bound as if I were the slave. For it was not a free choice. I had wanted him because he was the Squire, not for himself.... And it was no free choice, because I could not choose to say "No." My safety and security on the land meant I had to keep my special, costly hold on its owner. I paid him rent as surely as the tenants who came to my round rent table with their coins tied up in a scrap of cloth. When I lay on my back, or strode round the room threatening him with every imaginable, ridiculous torment, I was paying my dues. And the knowledge galled me. ↗
Whenever she imagined her child, grown up without interference from a judgemental world, she imagined its male and female halves as complementing each other, and as being secretly, almost magically powerful. ↗
He'd imagined peacetime would bring him a sense of belonging. During the war it kept him going, that thought of peace. He'd believed in it like a season he knew it would arrive one day ↗
No doubt she was wondering how to fight him off. That made him feel like some sordid roué, thinking of nothing but his own pleasure. But as little as he’d been in polite company, even Ash knew better than to issue a clarification. “No, Miss Lowell,” Ash could imagine himself saying, “I would never force myself on you. I mean to seduce you into willingness. That’s all.” That would get him a fork stabbed through his hand, by the black look she gave her pudding. Thank God the knives had been removed along with the beef. ↗
Never in a million years would he have imagined her to look at him like that - eyelids batting of their own volition and her lips puckering in expectation as she leaned slightly forward. Yet here she was doing precisely that - it was much too comical to stop the smile crossing his face. And that was when she hit him. It wasn't a faint slap on the cheek. No, Alexandra put all her weight behind the right hook that landed squarely across his jaw, throwing him completely off balance. Damnation! ↗
Cei ce afirmă că omul Renașterii simțea, cugeta și acționa ca noi se înșeală enorm. Dimpotrivă, noi avem obiceiul de-acum multisecular de a refula în noi înșine tot ceea ce constituia imagine a lumii la omul Renașterii, până într-atât încât acesta se confundă cu „umbra” noastră, cu ceea ce învățat, prin educație, să extirpăm și să mutilăm din noi înșine. Adăpostim încă în noi un frate debil, din pricină că nu ne putem debarasa complet de el. Dacă el este caricatura noastră - de vreme ce acumulează într-însul trăsăturile noastre cele mai infantile și mai ridicole -, să încercăm pentru o clipă să ne punem în locul lui: firește, este foarte probabil ca el să nu aibă despre noi o imagine mai măgulitoare decât aceea pe care ne-o facem noi despre el. Dar orice comunicare este imposibilă, iar barierele de vârstă nu se ridică niciodată. De aceea, e mică speranța că într-o zi ne-am putea înțelege și strânge mâna. Dar e încă și mai redusă posibilitatea ca acest oaspete neliniștitor din profunzimile noastre să dispară vreodată. În lipsa putinței de a ajunge la o înțelegere cordială, trebuie să învățăm a-l privi fără prea multă superioritate. Căci noi am pierdut ceea ce el avea, iar el nu are ceea ce noi am cucerit. Până la urmă, aceste cantități sunt egale. Dacă noi am realizat câteva dintre dorințele cele mai arzătoare ale imaginației sale, nu trebuie să uităm că am distrus tot pe-atâtea ș că acestea s-ar putea vădi irecuperabile. ↗
Their books are also different. Works of fiction contain a single plot, with all its imaginable permutations. Those of a philosophical nature invariably include both the thesis and the antithesis, the rigorous pro and con of a doctrine. A book which does not contain its counterbook is considered incomplete. ↗
#borges #counterbook #imaginable-permutations #orbis-tertius #tlön
Since history is not an objective reality, but only an imaginative reconstruction of vanished events, the pattern that appears useful and agreeable to one generation is never entirely so to the next. ↗
