En la memoria de Polonio la palabra nadien se había clavado, insólita, singular, como si fuese la suma de un número infinito de significaciones. Nadien, este plural triste. De nadie era la culpa, del destino, de la vida, de la pinche suerte, de nadien.
José RevueltasTag: words palabras nadie nadien plural significados
I'm all these words, all these strangers, this dust of words, with no ground for their settling, no sky for their dispersing, coming together to say, fleeing one another to say, that I am they, all of them, those that merge, those that part, those that never meet, and nothing else, yes, something else, that I'm something quite different, a quite different thing, a wordless thing in an empty place, a hard shut dry cold black place, where nothing stirs, nothing speaks, and that I listen, and that I seek, like a caged beast born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born of caged beasts born in a cage and dead in a cage, born and then dead, born in a cage and then dead in a cage, in a word like a beast, in one of their words, like such a beast, and that I seek, like such a beast, with my little strength, such a beast, with nothing of its species left but fear and fury, no, the fury is past, nothing but fear, nothing of all its due but fear centupled, fear of its shadow, no, blind from birth, of sound then, if you like, we'll have that, one must have something, it's a pity, but there it is, fear of sound, fear of sounds, the sounds of beasts, the sounds of men, sounds in the daytime and sounds at night, that's enough, fear of sounds all sounds, more or less, more or less fear, all sounds, there's only one, continuous, day and night, what is it, it's steps coming and going, it's voices speaking for a moment, it's bodies groping their way, it's the air, it's things, it's the air among the things, that's enough, that I seek, like it, no, not like it, like me, in my own way, what am I saying, after my fashion, that I seek, what do I seek now, what it is, it must be that, it can only be that, what it is, what it can be, what what can be, what I seek, no, what I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, they say I seek what it is I hear, I hear them, now it comes back to me, what it can possibly be, and where it can possibly come from, since all is silent here, and the walls thick, and how I manage, without feeling an ear on me, or a head, or a body, or a soul, how I manage, to do what, how I manage, it's not clear, dear dear, you say it's not clear, something is wanting to make it clear, I'll seek, what is wanting, to make everything clear, I'm always seeking something, it's tiring in the end, and it's only the beginning.
Samuel BeckettTag: fear words insanity silence sound cage
But he had turned, little by little, a disturbance into words, he had made a pillow of old words, for his head.
Samuel BeckettTag: words
A tongue is about the size of a bullet, but much more fierce and powerful.
Anthony LiccioneTag: words tongue powerful destructive
I won’t ever tell someone to never hold on for what might be gone; because if they don’t see it for themselves, my words will be just words.
Rayvon L. BrowneTag: words rayvon-l-browne
Our words were a shaky ladder; all I could do was climb, uncertain if I was about to surmount a glorious peak or fall and smash myself on the rocks below.
Deva FaganTag: words conversation barnaby-bagby prunella-bogthistle
Have you ever noticed how pretty and beautiful words can be? How easy it is to say the things you think someone wants to hear. How you can affect a person’s entire day with just a few measly sentences?
J. SterlingTag: words
They said a lot of things to each other that night, but nothing that involved words.
Michael GrantTag: words love sleep kiss night sam astrid wordless
Words can't fix my life.
Words can't give me a family.
Words can't do jack.
You may be a teacher, Ms. Leone, but face it: You don't know squat.
But even now, with the crates piled high in the hall, what I see most plainly about the books is that they are beautiful. They take up room? Of course they do: they are an environment; atoms, not bits. My books are not dead weight, they are live weight — matter infused by spirit, every one of them, even the silliest. They do not block the horizon; they draw it. They free me from the prison of contemporaneity: one should not live only in one’s own time. A wall of books is a wall of windows.
Leon WieseltierTag: words reading books literature
« prima precedente
Pagina 72 di 103.
prossimo ultimo »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.