إسراء خالد

“なるかみの, すこしとよみて,
さしくもり,
あめもふらぬか,
きみをとどめむ

[A faint clap of thunder,
Clouded skies,
Perhaps rain will come.
If so, will you stay here with me?]

なるかみの,すこしとよみて,
ふらずとも,
わはとどまらむ,
いもしとどめば

[A faint clap of thunder,
Even if rain comes or not,
I will stay here,
Together with you.]

万葉集 11, 2514 - 2513 (Man'yōshū vol. 11, verse 2514 - 2513)”
― Man'yōshū

“But books were different. They had lots of blanks. Blanks between words and even between lines. I could squeeze myself in there and sit, or walk, or scribble down my thoughts. It didn’t matter if I had no idea what the words meant. Turning the pages was half the battle.”
― Won-pyung Sohn, Almond

“You won’t manage, you’ll forget me; but if after a year, alas, more perhaps, a sad text, a death, or a rainy evening reminds you of me, you can offer me some altruism! I will never, never be able see you again . . . except in my soul, and this would require that we think about each other simultaneously. I’ll think about you forever so that my soul remains open to you endlessly in case you feel like entering it. But the visitor will keep me waiting for a long time! The November rains will have rotted the flowers on my grave, June will have burned them, and my soul will always be weeping impatiently. Ah! I hope that someday the sight of a keepsake, the recurrence of a birthday, the bent of your thoughts will guide your memory within the circle of my tenderness. It will then be as if I’ve heard you, perceived you, a magic spell will cover everything with flowers for your arrival. Think about the dead man. But, alas! Can I hope that death and your gravity will accomplish what life with its ardors, and our tears, and our merry times, and our lips were unable to achieve?”
― Marcel Proust, Pleasures and Days

“وبحلول رأس السنة الميلادية بلغ عمره 23 عامًا ليصبح بالغًا قادرًا على إدراك شرور العالم في نفس الوقت يصبح شابًا قادرًا على ألا يتأثر بها.”
― Yom Sang-seop, Three Generations