Nidia Ferch > Nidia's Quotes

“I imagined myself a bird, looking down on our city, the Grand Canal like a snake slithering through stone, the city on either side like two hands clasped in prayer”
― Gina Buonaguro, The Virgins of Venice

“#metooasachild”
― Aimee Cabo Nikolov, Love is the Answer, God is the Cure: A True Story of Abuse, Betrayal and Unconditional Love

“The Mother of God. Good-looking. Well-dressed. A good person. Knows how to make the absolute best of a situation. And never uppity about any of it.”
― Kathleen Zamboni McCormick, Dodging Satan: My Irish/Italian, Sometimes Awesome, But Mostly Creepy, Childhood

“No philosophers so thoroughly comprehend us as dogs and horses.”
― Herman Melville

“Everybody was strange. In a fit of frustration, she scratched out strange and wrote the word CRACKPOTS in big letters.”
― Kristin Cashore, Bitterblue

“To say that "the worker has an interest in the rapid growth of capital", means only this: that the more speedily the worker augments the wealth of the capitalist, the larger will be the crumbs which fall to him, the greater will be the number of workers than can be called into existence, the more can the mass of slaves dependent upon capital be increased.”
― Karl Marx, Wage-Labour and Capital & Value, Price and Profit

“No less a bold and pugnacious figure than Winston Churchill broke down and was unable to finish his remarks at the sendoff of the British Expeditionary Force into the maelstrom of World War I in Europe.”
― Barbara W. Tuchman, The Guns of August

“What Jack remembered and craved in a way he could neither help nor understand was the time that distant summer on Brokeback when Ennis had come up behind him and pulled him close, the silent embrace satisfying some shared and sexless hunger. They had stood that way for a long time in front of the fire, its burning tossing ruddy chunks of light, the shadow of their bodies a single column against the rock. The minutes ticked by from the round watch in Ennis's pocket, from the sticks in the fire settling into coals. Stars bit through the wavy heat layers above the fire. Ennis's breath came slow and quiet, he hummed, rocked a little in the sparklight and Jack leaned against the steady heartbeat, the vibrations of the humming like faint electricity and, standing, he fell into sleep that was not sleep but something else drowsy and tranced until Ennis, dredging up a rusty but still useable phrase from the childhood time before his mother died, said, "Time to hit the hay, cowboy. I got a go. Come on, you're sleepin on your feet like a horse," and gave Jack a shake, a push, and went off in the darkness. Jack heard his spurs tremble as he mounted, the words "see you tomorrow," and the horse's shuddering snort, grind of hoof on stone. Later, that dozy embrace solidified in his memory as the single moment of artless, charmed happiness in their separate and difficult lives. Nothing marred it, even the knowledge that Ennis would not then embrace him face to face because he did not want to see nor feel that it was Jack he held. And maybe, he thought, they'd never get much farther that that. Let be, let be.”
― Annie Proulx, Brokeback Mountain

“Ever' man wants life to be a fine thing, and a easy. 'Tis fine, boy, powerful fine, but 'taint easy.

--Penny Baxter to his son, Jody”
― Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, The Yearling

“She's wearing a tight red sweater and a red skirt and enough makeup to scare a hooker.”
― Kathryn Stockett, The Help

“Every movement of his body is an unconscious protest. Every desire, every dream, no matter how intimate or personal, is a plot or a conspiracy. Every hope is a plan for insurrection. Every glance of the eye is a threat. His very existence is a crime against the state!”
― Richard Wright, Native Son

“Sein – nicht Seiendes – »gibt es« nur, sofern Wahrheit ist. Und sie ist nur, sofern und solange Dasein ist. Sein und Wahrheit „sind“ gleichursprünglich. [s. 230]


Der Tod ist eigenste Möglichkeit des Daseins. Das Sein zu ihr erschließt dem Dasein sein eigenstes Seinkönnen, darin es um das Sein des Daseins schlechthin geht. Darin kann dem Dasein offenbar werden, daß es in der ausgezeichneten Möglichkeit seiner selbst dem man entrissen bleibt, das heißt vorlaufend sich je schon ihm entreißen kann. Das Verstehen dieses »Könnens« enthüllt aber erst die faktische Verlorenheit in die Alltäglichkeit des Man-selbst. [s. 263]



Die Situation ist nicht ein vorhandener Rahmen, in dem das Dasein vorkommt, oder in den es sich auch nur selbst brächte. Weit entfernt von einem vorhandenen Gemisch der begegnenden Umstände und Zufälle, ist die Situation nur durch und in der Entschlossenheit. Dem Man dagegen ist die Situation wesenhaft verschlossen. Es kennt nur die »allgemeine Lage«, verliert sich an die nächsten »Gelegenheiten« und bestreitet das Dasein aus der Verrechnung der »Zufälle«, die es, sie vorkennend, für die eigene Leistung hält und ausgibt. Die Entschlossenheit aber ist nur die in der Sorge gesorgte und als Sorge mögliche Eigentlichkeit dieser selbst. [ss. 300-301]

Das Nichts der Welt, davor die Angst sich ängstet, besagt nicht, es sei in der Angst etwa eine Abwesenheit des innerweltlichen Vorhandenen erfahren. Es muß gerade begegnen, damit es so gar keine Bewandtnis mit ihm haben und es sich in einer leeren Erbarmungslosigkeit zeigen kann. Darin liegt jedoch: das besorgende Gewärtigen findet nichts, woraus es sich verstehen könnte, es greift ins Nichts der Welt; auf die Welt gestoßen, ist aber das Verstehen durch die Angst auf das In-der-Welt-sein als solches gebracht, dieses Wovor der Angst ist aber zugleich ihr Worum. Das Sich-ängsten vor... hat weder den Charakter einer Erwartung noch überhaupt einer Gewärtigung. Das Wovor der Angst ist doch schon »da«, das Dasein selbst. [s. 343]

Die Angst ängstet sich um das nackte Dasein als in die Unheimlichkeit geworfenes. Sie bringt zurück auf das pure Daß der eigensten, vereinzelten Geworfenheit. [s. 343]


Die Angst bringt zurück auf die Geworfenheit als mögliche wiederholbare. Sie enthüllt mit die Möglichkeit eines eigentlichen Seinkönnens, das im Wiederholen als zukünftiges auf das geworfene Da zurückkommen muß. [s. 343]”
― Martin Heidegger

“ميت هو ذاك الذي لا يقلب الطاولة ولا يسمح لنفسه ولو لمرة واحدة في حياته بالهرب من النصائح المنطقية”
― بابلو نيرودا

“The sunset bled into the edges of the village. Smoke curled out of the cottage chimney like a crooked finger.”
― Sara Pascoe, Being a Witch, and Other Things I Didn't Ask For

“The steps leading to the porch looked worn, cracked, and unpainted, ready for a nice hot fire.”
― Gabriel F.W. Koch, Death Leaves a Shadow

“The bang of the modernist metal doorknocker exploded in the room. Jolting upright on the edge of the couch, Isa froze, her heart beating a discordance of dread. Her mind went blank as she stared
at the door. No.”
― Margarita Barresi, A Delicate Marriage

“When we hold health and abundance in our self-identity, we create experiences of that quality. If we choose to be attuned to the energy of our heart and feel love and compassion, we create experiences in the same energy spectrum as that of peace, love and joy.”
― Kenneth Schmitt, Quantum Energetics and Spirituality Volume 1: Aligning with Universal Consciousness

“Nothing irrevocable had yet been spoken, but there was only the barest margin of safety left them; each of them moving delicately along the outskirts of an open question, and, once spoken, such a question - as "Do you love me?" - could never be answered or forgotten.”
― Shirley Jackson, The Haunting of Hill House

“Once, I remember, we came upon a man-of-war anchored off the coast. There wasn't even a shed there, and she was shelling the bush. It appears the French had one of their wars going on thereabouts. Her ensign dropped limp like a rag; the muzzles of the long six-inch guns stuck out all over the low hull; the greasy, slimy swell swung her up lazily and let her down, swaying her thin masts. In the empty immensity of earth, sky, and water, there she was, incomprehensible, firing into a continent. Pop, would go one of the six-inch guns; a small flame would dart and vanish, a little white smoke would disappear, a tiny projectile would give a feeble screech—and nothing happened. Nothing could happen. There was a touch of insanity in the proceeding, a sense of lugubrious drollery in the sight; and it was not dissipated by somebody on board assuring me earnestly there was a camp of natives—he called them enemies!—hidden out of sight somewhere.”
― Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness

“Latin, Greek, and English, plus a smattering of Italian and fucking French.” “Fucking French, you say? Well . . .” “Oui,” said I, in perfect fucking French.”
― Christopher Moore, The Serpent of Venice

“Let me say something about that word: miracle. For too long it's been used to characterize things or events that, though pleasant, are entirely normal. Peeping chicks at Easter time, spring generally, a clear sunrise after an overcast week - a miracle, people say, as if they've been educated from greeting cards. I'm sorry, but nope. Such things are worth our notice every day of the week, but to call them miracles evaporates the strength of the word. Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying order and climbing up out of the grave - now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of the earth. My sister, Swede, who often sees to the nub, offered this: People fear mirales because they fear being changed - though ignoring them will change you also. Swede said another thing, too, and it rang in me like a bell: No miracle happens without a witness. Someone to declare, Here's what I saw. Here's how it went. Make of it what you will.”
― Leif Enger

“Gifted children and child prodigies seem most likely to emerge in highly supportive family conditions.In contrast, geniuses have a perverse tendency of growing up in more adverse conditions.”
― Malcolm Gladwell, David and Goliath: Underdogs, Misfits, and the Art of Battling Giants

“You don't know about falling off cliffs, Prep­pie,' she said. 'You never fell off one in your god­damn life.'

'Yeah,' I said, re­cov­er­ing the power of speech. 'When I met you.”
― Erich Segal, Love Story