Osama > Osama's Quotes

“Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight.”
― Phyllis Diller

“First impressions are always unreliable.”
― Franz Kafka

“From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached.”
― Franz Kafka, The Trial

“لأن الابداع لا يعرف حداً ، ولا تقاس نتائجه بمظاهر حسية، وانما هو تطلع دائم نحو الافضل وعدم الرضى بما هو قائم .”
― عبدالرحمن منيف, رحلة ضوء

“نحن في الشرق لا نحتمل فقط وإنما نهوى أن نعذّب أنفسنا ..! ومن الأخطاء الشائعة الصورة التي يتناقلها العالم عن الهنود بأنهم وحدهم الذين يحتملون ! الشرق كله موطن الاحتمال ! لقد تحوّل الشرق إلى حمار”
― عبدالرحمن منيف, التيه

“عندما لا تكون المرأة موجودة، يصرف الرجل وقتاً مضاعفا في التفكير بها واستحضارها، ثم اغرائها لاقناعها، واخيراً اذا وصل الى نتيجة، فهي مؤقتة ، وتضاعف همومه في النهار ، ولذلك يصبح الامر صعباً.”
― عبد الرحمن منيف

“انا لا ادين ارتداء الحجاب ولا ادين من تقرر ان ترتديه. ما ادينه هو اعتبار الحجاب ماركة مسجلة للايمان وبرهاناً على التقوى والصلاح وحسن الاخلاق”
― مريد البرغوثي, ولدت هناك .. ولدت هنا

“اما النقاب فهو مخالفة جنائية. لماذا؟ لان المرأة المنقبة التي لا تظهر ملامح وجهها اشبه بسيارة تسير في الشوارع بدون لوحة ارقام .”
― مريد البرغوثي, ولدت هناك .. ولدت هنا

“Written kisses don't reach their destination, rather they are drunk on the way by the ghosts.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“sleep is the most innocent creature there is and a sleepless man
the most guilty.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“it was like this. the brain could no longer bear the worries and pains that were imposed on it. it said: "i'm giving up; but if there is anyone else here who is interested in preserving the whole, let him assume part of my burden and it will be alright for a bit.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones. Basically it is nothing other than this fear we have so often talked about, but fear spread to everything, fear of the greatest as of the smallest, fear, paralyzing fear of pronouncing a word, although this fear may not only be fear but also a longing for something greater than all that is fearful.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“I have spent all my life resisting the desire to end it.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“Sometimes I have the feeling that we're in one room with two opposite doors and each of us holds the handle of one door, one of us flicks an eyelash and the other is already behind his door, and now the first one has but to utter a word ad immediately the second one has closed his door behind him and can no longer be seen. He's sure to open the door again for it's a room which perhaps one cannot leave. If only the first one were not precisely like the second, if he were calm, if he would only pretend not to look at the other, if he slowly set the room in order as though it were a room like any other; but instead he does exactly the same as the other at his door, sometimes even both are behind the doors and the the beautiful room is empty.”
― Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”
― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

“One must learn to love.— This is what happens to us in music: first one has to learn to hear a figure and melody at all, to detect and distinguish it, to isolate it and delimit it as a separate life; then it requires some exertion and good will to tolerate it in spite of its strangeness, to be patient with its appearance and expression, and kindhearted about its oddity:—finally there comes a moment when we are used to it, when we wait for it, when we sense that we should miss it if it were missing: and now it continues to compel and enchant us relentlessly until we have become its humble and enraptured lovers who desire nothing better from the world than it and only it.— But that is what happens to us not only in music: that is how we have learned to love all things that we now love. In the end we are always rewarded for our good will, our patience, fairmindedness, and gentleness with what is strange; gradually, it sheds its veil and turns out to be a new and indescribable beauty:—that is its thanks for our hospitality. Even those who love themselves will have learned it in this way: for there is no other way. Love, too, has to be learned.”
― Friedrich Nietzsche

“With a chaste heart
With pure eyes I celebrate your beauty
Holding the leash of blood
So that it might leap out and trace your outline
Where you lie down in my Ode
As in a land of forests or in surf
In aromatic loam, or in sea music

Beautiful nude
Equally beautiful your feet
Arched by primeval tap of wind or sound
Your ears, small shells
Of the splendid American sea
Your breasts of level plentitude
Fulfilled by living light
Your flying eyelids of wheat
Revealing or enclosing
The two deep countries of your eyes

The line your shoulders have divided into pale regions
Loses itself and blends into the compact halves of an apple
Continues separating your beauty down into two columns of
Burnished gold
Fine alabaster
To sink into the two grapes of your feet
Where your twin symmetrical tree burns again and rises
Flowering fire
Open chandelier
A swelling fruit
Over the pact of sea and earth

From what materials
Agate?
Quartz?
Wheat?
Did your body come together?
Swelling like baking bread to signal silvered hills
The cleavage of one petal
Sweet fruits of a deep velvet
Until alone remained
Astonished
The fine and firm feminine form

It is not only light that falls over the world spreading inside your body
Yet suffocate itself
So much is clarity
Taking its leave of you
As if you were on fire within

The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”
― Pablo Neruda

“A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.”
― Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last

“هل أسخر؟ أسخر كثيراً. فالسخرية وهي البكاء المُبطن خير من دموع الاستعطاف، لأن الأجل قد امتد بنا الي ما دون أرذل العمر.

اضحك، يا ولدي، اضحك، فليس في وسعنا أن ننساق في لغة الحزن أكثر مما انسقنا، فلنوقفها بالسخرية، لا لأن السخرية هي اليأس وقد تهذب كما يقولون، بل لأنها لا تثير الشفقة.”
― محمود درويش, الرسائل

“وسألتك: لم تعرفْ، إذاً، كيف تحب؟ فأدهشني قولكَ: ما الحبُّ؟ كأنني لم أحب إلا عندما كان يخيل لي أنني أحب.. كأن تخطفني من نافذة قطار تلويحةُ يد، ربما لم تكن مرسلة إليّ، فأولتها وقبّلتُها عن بعد.. وكأن أرى على مدخل دار السينما فتاةً تنتظر أحداً، فأتخيل أني ذاك الأحد، وأختار مقعدي إلى جوارها، وأراني وأراها على الشاشة في مشهد عاطفيّ، لا يعنيني أن أفرح أو أحزن من نهاية الفيلم. فأنا أبحث في ما بعد النهاية عنها. ولا أجدها إلى جواري منذ أنزلت الستارة. وسألتك: هل كنت تمثِّل يا صاحبي؟ قلتَ لي: كنتُ أخترعُ الحب عند الضرورة/ حين أسير وحيداً على ضفة النهر/ أو كلما ارتفعت نسبة الملح في جسدي كنت أخترع النهر..”
― محمود درويش, في حضرة الغياب

“الحب هو ارتباك الأدوار بين الآخذ و المعطي”
― مريد البرغوثي

“ونحب ونستشهد بدون عرائض أو أعذار”
― مظفر النواب, مظفر النواب: الأعمال الشعرية الكاملة

“سَأمْدَحُ هذَا الصَّباحَ الجَديد
سَأَنْسَى اللَّيَالَي، كُلَّ اللِّيَالي
وَأَمشِي إلَى وَرْدَةِ الجَار
أَخْطفُ مِنْهَا طَريقَتَهَا فِي الفَرَحْ”
― محمود درويش

“For a colonized people the most essential value, because the most concrete, is first and foremost the land: the land which will bring them bread and, above all, dignity.”
― Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth

“The missionaries find it opportune to remind the masses that long before the advent of European colonialism the great African empires were disrupted by the Arab invasion. There is no hesitation in saying that it was the Arab occupation which paved the way for European colonialism; Arab imperialism commonly spoken of, and the cultural imperialism of Islam is condemned.”
― Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth

“Once their rage explodes, they recover their lost coherence, they experience self-knowledge through reconstruction of themselves; from afar we see their war as the triumph of barbarity; but it proceeds on its own to gradually emancipate the fighter and progressively eliminates the colonial darkness inside and out. As soon as it begins it is merciless. Either one must remain terrified or become terrifying—which means surrendering to the dissociations of a fabricated life or conquering the unity of one’s native soil. When the peasants lay hands on a gun, the old myths fade, and one by one the taboos are overturned: a fighter’s weapon is his humanity. For in the first phase of the revolt killing is a necessity: killing a European is killing two birds with one stone, eliminating in one go oppressor and oppressed: leaving one man dead and the other man free;”
― Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth

“يفترض أن يبقى الدين، أي دين، في إطار الاعتقاد الخاص و الشخصي، و حين يتوجه إلى الآخرين يفترض أن يبقى في نطاق القيم الأخلاقية، أما إذا تحول إلى عمل سياسي فيصبح عندئذ ذريعة لسلب حرية الإنسان وإرغامه على الامتثال، كما يصبح وسيلة لقهر الآخرين و تبرير استغلالهم في الكثير من الأحيان.”
― عبد الرحمن منيف, بين الثقافة والسياسة

“المشكلة ليست في الصعوبات، فلكل مرحلة صعوباتها وتعقيداتها، وأيضا ضحاياها، ولكن المشكلة كما أرى في انعدام اليقين، في الهزيمة الداخلية التي نعيشها، مما يجعل الكثيرين حائرين ثم يائسين، وهذا مايريده الجلاد: أن نأكل أنفسنا، وأن يأكلنا الندم حتى ننتهي تماما.”
― عبد الرحمن منيف, الآن هنا.. أو شرق المتوسط مرة أخرى

“لا تفصح عما تكون الكناية عنه استر للعيب و أنفى للريب: فإن الكلام صلف تيّاه لا يستجيب لكل إنسان، و لا يصحب كل لسان .. و مادته من العقل، و العقل سريع التحول خفّي الخداع. و طريقه على الوهم، و الوهم شديد السيلان، و مجراه على اللسان، و اللسان كثير الطغيان”
― عبد الرحمن منيف, عالم بلا خرائط