Stefania

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Stefania is Currently Reading

Stefania is currently reading

Σάτρι

by Cormac McCarthy

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(page 75 of 775)
— Aug 28, 2026 04:43AM

Aug 22, 2026 07:38AM

“There are countries out there where people speak English. But not like us - we have our own languages hidden in our carry-on luggage, in our cosmetics bags, only ever using English when we travel, and then only in foreign countries, to foreign people. It's hard to imagine, but English is the real language! Oftentimes their only language. They don't have anything to fall back on or to turn to in moments of doubt. How lost they must feel in the world, where all instructions, all the lurics of all the stupidest possible songs, all the menus, all the excruciating pamphlets and brochures - even the buttons in the lift! - are in their private language. They may be understood by anuone at any moment, whenever they open their mouths. They must have to write things down in special codes. Wherever they are, people have unlimited access to them - they are accessible to everyone and everything! I heard there are plans in the works to get them some little language of their own, one of those dead ones no one else is using anyway, just so that for once they can have something just for them.”
― Olga Tokarczuk, Flights

tags: english-language, languages

90 likes

“That is one of the many reasons why I avoid speaking as much as possible. For I always say either too much or too little, which is a terrible thing for a man with a passion for truth like mine.”
― Samuel Beckett, Molloy

42 likes

“You hate the very source of your life, it’s ultimate basis—for there’s no denying it, ‘sex is fundamental. And you hate it, hate it.’ ‘Me?’ It was a novel accusation. Spandrell was accustomed to hearing himself blamed for his excessive love of women and the sensual pleasures. ‘Not only you. All these people.’ With a jerk of his head he indicated the other diners. ‘And all the respectable ones too. Practically everyone. It’s the disease of modern man. I call it Jesus’s disease on the analogy of Bright’s disease. Or rather Jesus’s and Newton’s disease; for the scientists are as much responsible as the Christians. So are the big business men, for that matter. It’s Jesus’s and Newton’s and Henry Ford’s disease. Between them, the three have pretty well killed us. Ripped the life out of our bodies and stuffed us with hatred.’ Rampion”
― Aldous Huxley, Point Counter Point

2 likes

“Εγώ δεν είμαι από 'δω. Δεν είμαι απ' αυτή τη γη όπου γεννήθηκα. Και στη ζωή μαθαίνεις, μαθαίνει αυτός που θέλει να μάθει, ότι κανένας δεν είναι από 'κεί που γεννήθηκε, από 'κει που τον μεγάλωσαν. Ότι κανένας δεν είναι από πουθενά. Μερικοί προσπαθούν να συντηρήσουν αυταπάτες και δημιουργούν νοσταλγίες, ιδιοκτησίες, ύμνους και σημαίες. Ανήκουμε όλοι στους τόπους που δεν γνωρίσαμε. Αν υπάρχει νοσταλγία, είναι για τα πράγματα που ποτέ δεν είδαμε, για τις γυναίκες που μαζί τους δεν κοιμηθήκαμε κι ούτε ονειρευτήκαμε. Και για τους φίλους που δεν αποκτήσαμε ακόμα, τα βιβλία που δεν διαβάσαμε, τα φαγητά που αχνίζουν στη χύτρα κι ακόμα δεν τα δοκιμάσαμε. Αυτή είναι η αληθινή νοσταλγία, η μοναδική.”
― Paco Ignacio Taibo II

18 likes

“This is why tyrants of all stripes, infernal servants, have such deep-seated hatred for the nomads - this is why they persecute the Gypsies and the Jews, and why they force all free peoples to settle, assigning the addresses that serve as our sentences.
What they want is to create a frozen order, to falsify time's passage. They want for the days to repeat themselves, unchanging, they want to build a big machine where every creature will be forced to take its place and carry out false actions. Institutions and offices, stamps,newsletters, a hierarchy, and ranks, degrees, applications and rejections, passports, numbers, cards, elections results, sales and amassing points, collecting, exchanging some things for others.
What they want is to pin down the world with the aid of barcodes, labelling all things, letting it be known that everything is a commodity, that this is how much it will cost you. Let this new foreign language be illegible to humans, let it be read exclusively by automatons, machines. That way by night, in their great underground shops, they can organize reading of their own barcoded poetry.

Move. Get going. Blesses is he who leaves.”
― Olga Tokarczuk, Flights

43 likes

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