روان ناجي > روان's Quotes

“You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth.”
― William W. Purkey

“إنني أريد أن آخذ حقي من الحياة عنوة.أريد أن أعطي بسخاء، أريد أن يفيض الحب من قلبي فينبع ويثمر.ثمة آفاق كثيرة لابد أن تزار، ثمة ثمار يجب أن تقطف، كتب كثيرة تقرأ، وصفحات بيضاء في سجل العمر، سأكتب فيها جملاً واضحة بخط جريء.”
― الطيب صالح, Season of Migration to the North

“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Journals of Sylvia Plath

“I didn’t want my picture taken because I was going to cry. I didn’t know why I was going to cry, but I knew that if anybody spoke to me or looked at me too closely the tears would fly out of my eyes and the sobs would fly out of my throat and I’d cry for a week. I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.”
― Sylvia Plath

“I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe?”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I'll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time...”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“I must learn more about these people―try to understand them, put myself in their place. No, instead I am so busy keeping my head above water that I scarcely know who I am, much less who anyone else is.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night...”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“كل ما حلمت به خذلنى
و كأن قدمى الصغيرتين مخلوقتان للانزلاق”
― سوزان عليوان, شمس مؤقتة

“هذه التعاسةُ الرماديّةُ
في عينيك
ما سرُّها؟
وماذا أستطيعُ أن أفعلَ
.كي ألوّنَها؟”
― سوزان عليوان, لا أشبه أحدًا

“أرجح الاحتمالات الطيبة لكل السوء الذى حدث .
المحبة خدعة
و الحنان مشبوه
لكننى – رغم حدة الالم – سأستمر فى تصديق ما لا أراه .”
― سوزان عليوان, شمس مؤقتة

“كل الدروب التي سلكتها أعادتني إليّ وكأنني لم أكن يومًا سوى رسالة إلى نفسي !”
― سوزان عليوان

“أعرفُ الألمَ
وأعلمُ
أنَّني في أملي تماديت.

أخذَني الهوى
أبعدَ من خطوتي رُبَّما.”
― سوزان عليوان, ما يفوق الوصف

“لأنَّ الكتابةَ لا تكفي

لأنَّ العمرَ أقصرُ من عناقٍ

لأنَّ الصدقَ مِقْصَلَةٌ

لأنَّكَ الكاذبُ الأكبرُ

لأنَّ الطاووسَ لا يطيرُ

لأنَّ الخطوةَ تسحقُنا

لأنَّ العالمَ لُعْبَةٌ

لأنَّني طفلةٌ لا تكبرُ

لأنَّ «الأشياءَ الظاهرةَ في المرآةِ

تبدو أبعدَ ممَّا هي عليهِ في الواقع»

لأنَّها مربطُ الفَرَسِ

أسطورةَ الشجرةِ والظلِّ

لأنَّ قصورَكَ من قشٍّ

شارعَنا عودُ رمادٍ

لأنَّ الكُحْلَ يكابرُ

فيما رموشي تنهمرُ

لأنَّ السماءَ سحابةٌ

سقطَتْ من تلقاءِ يأسِها

لأنَّ الهاويةَ لا تنتهي

لأنَّ القسوةَ بلا قاعٍ

لأنَّ أخطائي طيورٌ

لم تعلِّمْني ندمًا

لأنَّ طريقَ العودةِ

مضى في طريقِهِ من دوني

وليسَ في عظامٍ منخورةٍ بالخوف

ما يُغْرِي عصفورًا أو حطَّابًا

في بئرٍ أختبئُ

في رئتيَّ غيمٌ كثيرٌ”
― سوزان عليوان, كل الطرق تؤدي إلى صلاح سالم

“و كل ما نملكه و ما لا نملكه
سنقتسمه أيضًا
تمامًا
كرفيقين في رحلة طويلة.”
― رياض الصالح الحسين, وعل في الغابة

“حبيبتي الممتلئة بالاعياد
شهية كرغيف خبز
طيبة كبرتقالة
أما أنا
فلا أملك الا هذه الكلمات
وبعض الذكريات التعيسة
المحفورة بضراوة على ميناء جسدي”
― رياض الصالح الحسين, خراب الدورة الدمويَّة

“يدك الطرية الدافئة
كقلبي
كيف اتركها تضيع كطائر
في غابة مليئة بالصيادين”
― رياض الصالح الحسين

“I am one of those creatures that can swim in the dark ocean but also walk on the sunny shore. Feeling everything very deeply but also able to become incredibly shallow when needed. Swim in the ocean, wade at the shoreline. Both are familiar spaces. But the nightmare is found in the fact that both these spaces are felt very deeply: everything is indeed everything; but then nothing is also everything! To feel nothing is still EVERYTHING. But I know it's not just me, I know there are others... some of us feel everything in everything; but also in nothing at all. Even in absolute silence there is a scream that only we can hear.”
― C. JoyBell C.

“In another life Nora was a sea of emotion. She felt everything deeply and directly. Every joy and every sorrow. A single moment could contain both intense pleasure and intense pain, as if both were dependent on each other, like a pendulum in motion. A simple walk outside and she could feel a heavy sadness simply because the sun had slipped behind a cloud. Yet, conversely, meeting a dog who was clearly grateful for her attention caused her to feel so exultant that she felt she could melt into the pavement with sheer bliss. In that life she had a book of Emily Dickinson poems beside her bed and she had a playlist called ‘Extreme States of Euphoria’ and another one called ‘The Glue to Fix Me When I Am Broken’.”
― Matt Haig, The Midnight Library

“Yes, I value emotions deeply.
Call me sensitive, call me weak, call me outdated, call me anything you may, but tell me the truth, can you deny emotions give life to life.
If Emotions are an integral part of Being Human,
Why do people suppress feeling them ?
Does the bruising scare them ? Than I wonder who is weak ?”
― Wordions

“The opposite sensitive is not brave. It's not brave to refuse to pay attention, to refuse to notice, to refuse to feel and know and imagine. The opposite of sensitive is insensitive, and that's no badge of honor.”
― Glennon Doyle, Untamed

“If I am remembered for anything, I want it to be for this: that throughout my entire life, I was deeply sensitive. Sensitive to feelings, words and surroundings. Sensitive to people, places and things. The smallest of things make me emotional in this world. It could be a memory, a truthful face, or a flash of childhood; it could be the smile of a stranger or the openness of the sky. And throughout my life I saw it as an isolating difference. But in my maturity as a man I’ve discovered my sensitivity is a liberating gift. Because I feel deeply about things. I feel deeply about people. About doing right. About keeping my word. Seeing others achieve. Seeing loved ones grows. I am sensitive to the feelings of the less fortunate, the few, and those struggling. And whenever I get so angry about the world or how people treat each other, I burn bitterly and fierce. Yet, when that flame extinguishes what is left is what is greatest of me; the slow moving tide of my heart. That tide is kind. It is understanding. It is calm. And it is the central moving force in my soul and the rhythm that I am and that I always return to: my sensitivity. I’ve always been this way. Since I was a boy. Now I am a man and I don’t take anything less than pride in it. Because I have found that the tiniest of moments, memories, smiles, dreams and people can make the most emotional impact on me, and the lives of others. And what this brings me all back to is what I what I understand: I have found that I feel more, I care more, and I want people to be more. And that is why I have decided that I must love more. But if I’m remembered for anything — over my laugh, my love or my wonderous beautiful life, I want it to be for my sensitivity. And that I believe that true greatness in the depths of any man, woman or child, is a place of care, consideration and true sensitivity.”
― Drue Grit

“I think we deserve

a soft epilogue, my love.

We are good people

and we’ve suffered enough.”
― Nikka Ursula

“the way to love someone is to lightly run your finger over that person's soul until you find a crack, and then gently pour your love into that crack.”
― Keith Miller

“I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
― Mary Oliver

“How I go to the wood

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.”
― Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems