M B

“I've lived to see my longings die"

I've lived to se my longings die:
My dreams and I have grown apart;
Now only sorrow haunts my eye,
The wages of a bitter heart.

Beneath the storms of hostile fate,
My flowery wreath has faded fast;
I live alone and sadly wait
To see when death will come at last.

Just so, when the winds in winter moan
And snow descends in frigid flakes,
Upon a naked branch, alone,
The final leaf of summer shakes!”
― Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin

“Beyond our ideas of right-doing and wrong-doing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’
doesn’t make sense any more.”
― Coleman Barks

“أيها القراء المخدوعون إن هدف الصحيفة الأول إيه صحيفة ليست الوطنية ولا للثقافة ولا خدمه الشعب ولا حرية الرأي ولا رفع منار الفضيلة ولا شيء من كل هذه الخزعبلات
أن هدف الصحيفة الأول هو بيع الصحيفة هو المكسب هو أكل العيش فهدفنا الربح.
فإذا كانت الوطنية مربحه فلتحيا الوطنية وإذا كان الهزل والفكاهة أكثر ربحا فلتسقط الوطنية وليحيا الهزل والفكاهة وإذا كان ذكر الفضائح أشد ربحا فلتحيا الفضائح وإذا كانت محاربة الرذيلة وسيلة لانتشار الجريدة فلتحيا الفضيلة وإذا كانت الصورة الفاضحة والسيقان العارية والنهود البارزة وسيلة ربح فلتذهب الفضيلة إلى حيث ألقت.”
― يوسف السباعي, أرض النفاق

“These marvels were great and comfortable ones, but in the old England there was a greater still. The weather behaved itself.
In the spring all the little flowers came out obediently in the meads, and the dew sparkled, and the birds sang; in the summer it was beautifully hot for no less than four months, and, if it did rain just enough for agricultural purposes, they managed to arrange it so that it rained while you were in bed; in the autumn the leaves flamed and rattled before the west winds, tempering their sad adieu with glory; and in the winter, which was confined by statute to two months, the snow lay evenly, three feet thick, but never turned into slush.”
― T.H. White, The Sword in the Stone