...човешката душа.Във вселената тя е нещо прекрасно и неповторимо.Вечно нападана,но никога не унищожавана,защото "ти можеш!
John SteinbeckНавярно у всекиго от нас има по едно скрито блато,в което се въдят и растат,и укрепват всякакви грозни идолни неща.Ала ние ограждаме тези плаващи твари и рекат ли да изпълзят навън подхлъзват се и падат назад.Не е ли обаче възможно в мрачните блата на някои хора злото така да се развие,че да прекрачи през оградата и да плъзне на свобода? Няма ли такъв човек да стане за нас чудовище?И не сме ли по някакъв начин сродени с него чрез тези наши скрити води? След като ние сме ги измислили,би било абсурдно да не разбираме еднакво и ангелите,и дяволите.
John SteinbeckFunny thing how it is. If a man owns a little property, that property is him, it's part of him, and it's like him. If he owns property only so he can walk on it and handle it and be sad when it isn't doing well, and feel fine when the rain falls on it, that property is him, and some way he's bigger because he owns it. Even if he isn't successful he's big with his property. That is so.'
'But let a man get property he doesn't see, or can't take time to get his fingers in, or can't be there to walk on it - why, then the property is the man. He can't do what he wants, he can't think what he wants. The property is the man, stronger than he is. And he is small, not big. Only his possessions are big - and he's the servant of his property. That is so, too.
Tag: capitalism ownership
The bank - the monster has to have profits all the time. It can't wait. It'll die. No, taxes go on. When the monster stops growing, it dies. It can't stay one size.
John SteinbeckTag: capitalism bank ownership
When you're huntin' somepin you're a hunter, an' you're strong. Can't nobody beat a hunter. But when you get hunted - that's different. Somepin happens to you. You ain't strong: maybe you're fierce, but you ain't strong." - Muley
John SteinbeckA large drop of sun lingered on the horizon and then dripped over and was gone, and the sky was brilliant over the spot where it had gone, and a torn cloud, like a bloody rag, hung over the spot of its going. And dusk crept over the sky from the eastern horizon, and darkness crept over the land from the east.
John SteinbeckOne day Samuel strained his back lifting a bale of hay, and it hurt his feelings more than his back, for he could not imagine a life in which Sam Hamilton was not privileged to lift a bale of hay. He felt insulted by his back, almost as he would have been if one of his children had been dishonest
John SteinbeckJust like heaven. Ever’body wants a little piece of lan’. I read plenty of books out here. Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobody gets no land. It’s just in their head. They’re all the time talkin’ about it, but it’s jus’ in their head.
John SteinbeckI remember my childhood names for grasses and secret flowers. I remember where a toad may live...
John SteinbeckCan a man think out his life, or must he just tag along?
John Steinbeck« prima precedente
Pagina 40 di 103.
prossimo ultimo »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.