Eliza

“Mergeam incet, pe cerul compact si sticlos alergau niste nori destul de urati. Orasul zacea in covorul lui de praf. Ma simteam in afara oricarei legaturi favorabile cu norii aceia adunati sub ochii mei intr-o harababura menita parca sa-mi demonstreze cat de iluzorii ne pot fi uneori disponibilitatile..”
― Gellu Naum, Zenobia

“Fiecare îsi comunica erorile cum poate iar ele cuprind totdeauna un pic de adevar; ceilalti înteleg cît pot; fiecare spune mai putin decît întelege si întelege mai mult decît i se spune, iar ce întelege nu i se spune, fiindca ce i se spune nu întelege, si asa mai departe.”
― Gellu Naum, Zenobia

“I understand, all right. The hopeless dream of being - not seeming, but being. At every waking moment, alert. The gulf between what you are with others and what you are alone. The vertigo and the constant hunger to be exposed, to be seen through, perhaps even wiped out. Every inflection and every gesture a lie, every smile a grimace. Suicide? No, too vulgar. But you can refuse to move, refuse to talk, so that you don't have to lie. You can shut yourself in. Then you needn't play any parts or make wrong gestures. Or so you thought. But reality is diabolical. Your hiding place isn't watertight. Life trickles in from the outside, and you're forced to react. No one asks if it is true or false, if you're genuine or just a sham. Such things matter only in the theatre, and hardly there either. I understand why you don't speak, why you don't move, why you've created a part for yourself out of apathy. I understand. I admire. You should go on with this part until it is played out, until it loses interest for you. Then you can leave it, just as you've left your other parts one by one.”
― Ingmar Bergman

“In ziua de azi nimeni nu iubeste pe nimeni. Toata lumea e prea ocupata sa fie indragostita.”
― D.h. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover