Javier Castro

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The Autobiography...
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  (page 35 of 317)
"爱这个" Nov 13, 2025 08:48AM

 
The Lord of the R...
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  (page 175 of 1216)
":)" Nov 21, 2025 07:37PM

 
The Three-Body Pr...
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"empece a leerlo pq vi la serie y me informaron que era de un libro... :)" Jul 01, 2024 03:45PM

 
See all 4 books that Javier is reading…
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Miyamoto Musashi
“If you know the way broadly you will see it in everything.”
Miyamoto Musashi

Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
“All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
And I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I'll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
But who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry. I never know what I'm going to say.
I don't plan it.
When I'm outside the saying of it, I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

We have a huge barrel of wine, but no cups.
That's fine with us. Every morning
We glow and in the evening we glow again.”
Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi

William Golding
“Fancy thinking the Beast was something you could hunt and kill! You knew, didn’t you? I’m part of you? Close, close, close! I’m the reason why it’s no go? Why things are what they are?”
William Golding, Lord of the Flies

William Shakespeare
“Brevity is the soul of wit.”
William Shakespeare, Hamlet

Cormac McCarthy
“For let it go how it will, he said, God speaks in the least of creatures. The kid thought him to mean birds or things that crawl but the expriest, watching, his head slightly cocked, said: No man is give leave of that voice. The kid spat into the fire and bent to his work. I aint heard no voice, he said. When it stops, said Tobin, you’ll know you’ve heard it all your life. Is that right? Aye.”
Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian: Or the Evening Redness in the West

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