For if a lover's face survives emblazoned on your heart, the world is still your home.
Orhan PamukA letter doesn't communicate by words alone. A letter, just like a book, can be read by smelling it, touching it and fondling it. Thereby, intelligent folk will say, 'Go on then, read what the letter tells you!' whereas the dull-witted will say, 'Go on then, read what he's written!
Orhan PamukSometimes I sensed that the books I read in rapid succession had set up some sort of murmur among themselves, transforming my head into an orchestra pit where different musical instruments sounded out, and I would realize that I could endure this life because of these musicales going on in my head.
Orhan PamukTag: words reading books literature
Hüzün does not just paralyze the inhabitants of Instanbul, it also gives them poetic license to be paralyzed.
Orhan PamukThe first thing I learned at school was that some people are idiots; the second thing I learned was that some are even worse.
Orhan PamukESAELP GNITTIPS ON
This mysterious decree would incite me to defy it and spit on the ground at once, but because the police were stationed two steps away in front of the Governor's Mansion, I'd just stare at it uneasily instead. Now I began to fear that spit would suddenly climb out of my throat and land on the ground without my even willing it. But as I knew, spitting was mostly a habit of grown-ups of the same stock as those brainless, weak-willed, insolent children who were always being punished by my teacher. Yes, we would sometimes see people spitting on the streets, or hawking up phlegm because they had no tissues, but this didn't happen often enough to merit a decree of this severity, even outside the Governor's Manson. Later on, when I read about the Chinese spitting pots and discovered how commonplace spitting was in other parts of the world, I asked myself why they'd gone to such lengths to discourage spitting in Istanbul, where it had never been popular.
Luego pensamos que un buen relato debe tener un comienzo infantil, un desarrollo terrorífico como una pesadilla y un final amargo como una historia de amor que termina en una separación.
Orhan PamukTag: relato literatura
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Fue a lo largo de aquellos cuatro años cuando aprendí que la vida no es una espera sino algo que se puede disfrutar.
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lo habían encuadernado cuidadosamente con un papel de aguas azul que hacía recordar los sueños.
Orhan PamukTag: sueños
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Das echte Liebesleid nistet sich an der Basis unserer Existenz ein, erwischt uns unerbittlich an unserem schwächsten Punkt, greift von da auf alles andere über und verteilt sich unaufhaltsam über unseren ganzen Körper und unser ganzes Leben. Wenn wir unglücklich verliebt sind, dienen unsere sämtlichen Leiden und Sorgen, vom Tod des Vaters bis hin zum banalsten Missgeschick, wie zum Beispiel einem verlegten Schlüssel, als neuerlicher Auslöser für den Urschmerz, der stets bereit ist, wieder anzuschwellen. Wessen Leben durch die Liebe auf den Kopf gestellt wird, so wie meines, der meint immer, zusammen mit dem Liebesleid würden auch alle anderen Sorgen ein Ende finden, und so rührt er unwillkürlich immer wieder an der Wunde in sich drinnen.
Orhan PamukTag: pain heartsickness lovesickness
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