M. Q.
https://www.goodreads.com/matsurique
“Don't feel sorry for yourself. Only assholes do that.”
― Norwegian Wood
― Norwegian Wood
“جهانشاه گفت:
از اینکه با طناب بمیرم خیلی می ترسم. آن هم با گره های گنده ای که سرش می زنند. کسی که با طناب بمیرد، نمرده خفه شده فقط. باید خون تا قطره آخرش از بدن برود بیرون تا آدم مرده حساب شود. تیرباران خوبی اش همین است: با طناب خون لخته می شود فقط توی رگ ها. آن طوری روح آدم همه اش زجر می کشد. تا خون آدم نریزد بیرون روی زمین، روح سبک نمی شود،نمی رود بالا. روی زمین می ماند. آن وقت مجبور است هی برود تو نخ این و آن و اذیتشان کند.”
― هیس
از اینکه با طناب بمیرم خیلی می ترسم. آن هم با گره های گنده ای که سرش می زنند. کسی که با طناب بمیرد، نمرده خفه شده فقط. باید خون تا قطره آخرش از بدن برود بیرون تا آدم مرده حساب شود. تیرباران خوبی اش همین است: با طناب خون لخته می شود فقط توی رگ ها. آن طوری روح آدم همه اش زجر می کشد. تا خون آدم نریزد بیرون روی زمین، روح سبک نمی شود،نمی رود بالا. روی زمین می ماند. آن وقت مجبور است هی برود تو نخ این و آن و اذیتشان کند.”
― هیس
“Once he went into the mountains on a clear, sunny day, and wandered about for a long time with a tormenting thought that refused to take shape. Before him was the shining sky, below him the lake, around him the horizon, bright and infinite, as if it went on forever. For a long time he looked and suffered. He remembered now how he had stretched out his arms to that bright, infinite blue and wept. What had tormented him was that he was a total stranger to it all. What was this banquet, what was this great everlasting feast, to which he had long been drawn, always, ever since childhood, and which he could never join? Every morning the same bright sun rises; every morning there is a rainbow over the waterfall; every evening the highest snowcapped mountain, there, far away, at the edge of the sky, burns with a crimson flame; every little fly that buzzes near him in a hot ray of sunlight participates in this whole chorus: knows its place, loves it, and is happy; every little blade of grass grows and is happy! And everything has its path, and everything knows its path, goes with a song and comes back with a song; only he knows nothing, understands nothing, neither people nor sounds, a stranger to everything and a castaway.”
― The Idiot
― The Idiot
“Existence alone had never been enough for him; he had always wanted more. Perhaps it was only from the force of his desires that he had regarded himself as a man to whom more was permitted than to others.”
― Crime and Punishment
― Crime and Punishment
“In his or her own way, everyone I saw before me looked happy. Whether they were really happy or just looked it, I couldn't tell. But they did look happy on this pleasant early afternoon in late September, and because of that I felt a kind of loneliness new to me, as if I were the only one here who was not truly part of the scene.”
― Norwegian Wood
― Norwegian Wood
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