Teodora Miclăuș > Teodora's Quotes

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  • #1
    Terry Pratchett
    “After a while the Senior Wrangler said, "Do you know, I read the other day that every atom in your body is changed every seven years? New ones keep getting attached and old ones keep on dropping off. It goes on all the time. Marvelous, really."

    The Senior Wrangler could do to a conversation what it takes quite thick treacle to do to the pedals of a precision watch.

    "Yes? What happens to the old ones?" said Ridcully, interested despite himself.

    "Dunno. They just float around in the air, I suppose, until they get attached to someone else."

    The Archchancellor looked affronted.

    "What, even wizards?"

    "Oh, yes. Everyone. It's part of the miracle of existence."

    "Is it? Sounds like bad hygiene to me," said the Archchancellor. "I suppose there's no way of stopping it?"

    "I shouldn't think so," said the Senior Wrangler, doubtfully. "I don't think you're supposed to stop miracles of existence."

    "But that means everythin' is made up of everythin' else," said Ridcully.

    "Yes. Isn't it amazing?”
    Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

  • #2
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “I know what the Greeks do not know, incertitude.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #3
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “There is no pleasure more complex than that of thought and we surrendered ourselves to it.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #4
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “No one is anyone, one single immortal man is all men. Like Cornelius Agrippa, I am god, I am hero, I am philosopher, I am demon and I am world, which is a tedious way of saying that I do not exist.”
    Jorge Luis Borges

  • #5
    Terry Pratchett
    “I REMEMBER WHEN ALL THIS WILL BE AGAIN.”
    Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

  • #6
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “The other one, the one called Borges, is the one things happen to. I walk through the streets of Buenos Aires and stop for a moment, perhaps mechanically now, to look at the arch of an entrance hall and the grillwork on the gate. I know of Borges from the mail and see his name on a list of professors or in a biographical dictionary. I like hourglasses, maps, eighteenth-century typography, the taste of coffee and the prose of Stevenson; he shares these preferences, but in a vain way that turns them into the attributes of an actor. It would be an exaggeration to say that ours is a hostile relationship. I live, let myself go on living, so that Borges may contrive his literature, and this literature justifies me. It is no effort for me to confess that he has achieved some valid pages, but those pages cannot save me, perhaps because what is good belongs to no one, not even to him, but rather to the language and to tradition. Besides I am destined to perish, definitively, and only some instant of myself can survive in him. Little by little, I am giving over everything to him, though I am quite aware of his perverse custom of falsifying and magnifying things. Spinoza knew that all things long to persist in their being; the stone eternally wants to be a stone, and the tiger a tiger. I shall remain in Borges, not in myself (if it is true that I am someone), but I recognize myself less in his books than in many others or in the laborious strumming of a guitar. Years ago I tried to free myself from him and went from the mythologies of the suburbs to the games with time and infinity, but those games belong to Borges now and I shall have to imagine other things. Thus my life is a flight and I lose everything and everything belongs to oblivion, or to him.

    I do not know which of us has written this page.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #7
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “He had no document but his memory; the training he had acquired with each added hexameter gave him a discipline unsuspected by those who set down and forget temporary, incomplete paragraphs. He was not working for posterity or even for God, whose literary tastes were unknown to him. Meticulously, motionlessly, secretly, he wrought in time his lofty, invisible labyrinth. He worked the third act over twice. He eliminated certain symbols as over-obvious, such as the repeated striking of the clock, the music. Nothing hurried him. He omitted, he condensed, he amplified. In certain instances he came back to the original version. He came to feel affection for the courtyard, the barracks; one of the faces before him modified his conception of Roemerstadt's character. He discovered that the wearying cacophonies that bothered Flaubert so much are mere visual superstitions, weakness and limitation of the written word, not the spoken...He concluded his drama. He had only the problem of a single phrase. He found it. The drop of water slid down his cheek. He opened his mouth in a maddened cry, moved his face, dropped under the quadruple blast.”
    Jorge Luís Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #8
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “The morning sun shone over the bronze blade. There were no more traces of blood left. "Would you believe it Ariadne?" said Theseus "The Minotaur almost didn't defend itself.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, The Aleph and Other Stories

  • #9
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “Tennyson said that if we could understand a single flower we would know who we are and what the world is. Perhaps he meant that there is no deed, however so humble, which does not implicate universal history and the infinite concatenation of causes and effects. Perhaps he meant that the visible world is implicit, in its entirety, in each manifestation, just as, in the same way, will, according to Schopenhauer, is implicit, in its entirety, in each individual.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #10
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “Historical truth, for him, is not what has happened; it is what we judge to have happened.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #11
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “Existe un río cuyas aguas dan la inmortalidad; en alguna región habrá otro río cuyas aguas la borren. El número no es infinito; un viajero inmortal que recorra el mundo acabará, algún día, por haber bebido de todos.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, The Aleph and Other Stories

  • #12
    Friedrich Nietzsche
    “You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.”
    Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

  • #13
    Terry Pratchett
    “I'VE NEVER BEEN VERY SURE ABOUT WHAT IS RIGHT, said Bill Door. I AM NOT SURE THERE IS SUCH A THING AS RIGHT. OR WRONG. JUST PLACES TO STAND.”
    Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

  • #14
    Terry Pratchett
    “The only thing known to go faster than ordinary light is monarchy, according to the philosopher Ly Tin Wheedle. He reasoned like this: you can't have more than one king, and tradition demands that there is no gap between kings, so when a king dies the succession must therefore pass to the heir instantaneously. Presumably, he said, there must be some elementary particles -- kingons, or possibly queons -- that do this job, but of course succession sometimes fails if, in mid-flight, they strike an anti-particle, or republicon. His ambitious plans to use his discovery to send messages, involving the careful torturing of a small king in order to modulate the signal, were never fully expanded because, at that point, the bar closed.”
    Terry Pratchett, Mort

  • #15
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “At first cautiously, later indifferently, at last desperately, I wandered up the stairs and along the pavement of the inextricable palace. (Afterwards I learned that the width and height of the steps were not constant, a fact which made me understand the singular fatigue they produced). 'This palace is a fabrication of the gods,' I thought at the beginning. I explored the uninhabited interiors and corrected myself: ' The gods who built it have died.' I noted its peculiarities and said: 'The gods who built it were mad.' I said it, I know, with an incomprehensible reprobation which was almost remorse, with more intellectual horror than palpable fear...
    ...'This City' (I thought) 'is so horrible that its mere existence and perdurance, though in the midst of a secret desert, contaminates the past and the future and in some way even jeopardizes the stars.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #16
    Terry Pratchett
    “If per capita was a problem, decapita could be arranged”
    Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

  • #17
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “Heaven and hell seem out of proportion to me: the actions of men do not deserve so much.”
    Jorge Luis Borges

  • #18
    Terry Pratchett
    “Oh. I see. People don't want to see what can't possibly exist.”
    Terry Pratchett, Mort

  • #19
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “Reality is not always probable, or likely.”
    Jorge Luis Borges

  • #20
    Terry Pratchett
    “Scientists have calculated that the chances of something so patently absurd actually existing are millions to one.
    But magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten.”
    Terry Pratchett, Mort

  • #21
    Terry Pratchett
    “People don't alter history any more than birds alter the sky, they just make brief patterns in it.”
    Terry Pratchett, Mort

  • #22
    Terry Pratchett
    “It was the living who ignored the strange and wonderful, because life was too full of the boring and mundane.”
    Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man

  • #23
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “One of the schools of Tlön goes so far as to negate time; it reasons that the present is indefinite, that the future has no reality other than as a present hope, that the past has no reality other than as a present memory. Another school declares that all time has already transpired and that our life is only the crepuscular and no doubt falsified an mutilated memory or reflection of an irrecoverable process. Another, that the history of the universe — and in it our lives and the most tenuous detail of our lives — is the scripture produced by a subordinate god in order to communicate with a demon. Another, that the universe is comparable to those cryptographs in which not all the symbols are valid and that only what happens every three hundred nights is true. Another, that while we sleep here, we are awake elsewhere and that in this way every man is two men.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #24
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “And yet, and yet… Denying temporal succession, denying the self, denying the astronomical universe, are apparent desperations and secret consolations. Our destiny … is not frightful by being unreal; it is frightful because it is irreversible and iron-clad. Time is the substance I am made of. Time is a river which sweeps me along, but I am the river; it is a tiger which destroys me, but I am the tiger; it is a fire which consumes me, but I am the fire. The world, unfortunately, is real; I, unfortunately, am Borges.”
    Jorge Luis Borges

  • #25
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “You can't measure time by days, the way you measure money by dollars and cents, because dollars are all the same while every day is different and maybe every hour as well.”
    Jorge Luis Borges

  • #26
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “There are no moral or intellectual merits. Homer composed the Odyssey; if we postulate an infinite period of time, with infinite circumstances and changes, the impossible thing is not to compose the Odyssey, at least once.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, The Aleph and Other Stories

  • #27
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “Every novel is an ideal plane inserted into the realm of reality.”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings

  • #28
    Terry Pratchett
    “Tʜᴇʀᴇ's ɴᴏ ᴊᴜsᴛɪᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴇ.

    —Death”
    Terry Pratchett, Mort

  • #29
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “Siempre imaginé que el Paraíso sería algún tipo de biblioteca.”
    Jorge Luis Borges

  • #30
    Jorge Luis Borges
    “They seek neither truth nor likelihood; they seek astonishment. They think metaphysics is a branch of the literature of fantasy”
    Jorge Luis Borges, Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings



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