Lance Botha

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“The radio is playing Blood, Sweat and Tears’ “And When I Die” as I drift off to sleep listening to the artillery fire in the distance.”
Michael Zboray, Teenagers War: Vietnam 1969

Behcet Kaya
“Cindy, have you heard of the second law of thermodynamics?”
“Yes. Something about heat energy can never be created or destroyed?”
“That’s the first law of thermodynamics. The second one is this…all organized systems tend to slide slowly into chaos and disorder. Energy tends to run down. The universe itself heads inevitably towards darkness and stasis. Our own star system eventually will die, the sun will become a red giant, and the earth will be swallowed by the red giant.”
“Cheery thought.”
“But mathematics has altered this concept; rather one particular mathematician. His name was Ilya Prigogine, a Belgian mathematician.”
“Who and what does that have to do with your being a PI and a great psychologist?”
“Are you being sarcastic? Of course you are. Anyway, what I was trying to say was that Prigogine used the analogy of a walled city and open city. The walled city is isolated from its surroundings and will run down, decay, and die. The open city will have an exchange of materials and energy with its surroundings and will become larger and more complex; capable of dissipating energy even as it grows. So my point is, this analogy very much pertains to a certain female. The walled person versus the open person. The walled person will eventually decline, fade, and decay.”
Behcet Kaya, Appellate Judge

Sarah J. Maas
“Fireheart,” he said onto her mouth. “Buzzard,” she murmured onto his.”
Sarah J. Maas, Empire of Storms

Mohamad Farahat
“ثبت اهتزاز الوتر
سكت الوتر
هذا الفتى يأكل من كتابتِه السَّهر
هذا الفتى يرعى
من مواسمه المطر
***

قبرٌ يضمك بعد أن
ضمتك كل قلوبنا زمنًا
وما زلنا بشعرك نأتزر
(لا تعتذر عما فعلت)
صنعتَ تاريخًا نحبكَ باسمه
والعابرون سيفرحون سيجلسون القرفصاء
يقول آخرهم من القوقاز شاعرهم مضى
لن يدركوا الكلمات باقيةً
ويمضي العابرون مع الكلام بلا أثر”
محمد فرحات

Norton Juster
“There was once a boy named Milo who didn’t know what to do with himself—not just sometimes, but always. When he was in school he longed to be out, and when he was out he longed to be in. On the way he thought about coming home, and coming home he thought about going. Wherever he was he wished he were somewhere else, and when he got there he wondered why he’d bothered. Nothing really interested him—least of all the things that should have.”
Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth

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