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“الإنسان بطبعه جشعٌ منوع.. يؤوسٌ هلوع.. قنوطٌ جزوع.. مع علمه أن أجله مقطوع.. وأنه لن يموت من جوع!
لو كنت إنسيًا وأعلم أنني لن أعمّر سوى ستين أو سبعين سنة فقط، فسأقضي هذه السنين القليلة بين أحبابي، أشبع منهم قبل أن أفارقهم وأندم.. كما تندمون أنتم.”
― حوجن [Ḥawjan]
لو كنت إنسيًا وأعلم أنني لن أعمّر سوى ستين أو سبعين سنة فقط، فسأقضي هذه السنين القليلة بين أحبابي، أشبع منهم قبل أن أفارقهم وأندم.. كما تندمون أنتم.”
― حوجن [Ḥawjan]
“الحُب فوق كل الفروقات *”
― حوجن [Ḥawjan]
― حوجن [Ḥawjan]
“We must take our sentences seriously, which means we must understand them philosophically, and the odd thing is that the few who do, who take them with utter sober seriousness, the utter sober seriousness of right-wing parsons and political saviors, the owners of Pomeranians, are the liars who want to be believed, the novelists and poets, who know that the creatures they imagine have no other being than the sounding syllables which the reader will speak into his own weary and distracted head. There are no magic words. To say the words is magical enough.”
― The World Within the Word
― The World Within the Word
“I suppose it is submerged realities that give to dreams their curious air of hyper-reality. But perhaps there is something else as well, something nebulous, gauze-like, through which everything one sees in a dream seems, paradoxically, much clearer. A pond becomes a lake, a breeze becomes a storm, a handful of dust is a desert, a grain of sulphur in the blood is a volcanic inferno. What manner of theater is it, in which we are at once playwright, actor, stage manager, scene painter and audience?”
― The Rings of Saturn
― The Rings of Saturn
“I know you, I know you. You're the only serious person in the room, aren't you, the only one who understands, and you can prove it by the fact that you've never finished a single thing in your life. You're the only well-educated person, because you never went to college, and you resent education, you resent social ease, you resent good manners, you resent success, you resent any kind of success, you resent God, you resent Christ, you resent thousand-dollar bills, you resent Christmas, by God, you resent happiness, you resent happiness itself, because none of that's real. What is real, then? Nothing's real to you that isn't part of your own past, real life, a swamp of failures, of social, sexual, financial, personal...spiritual failure. Real life. You poor bastard. You don't know what real life is, you've never been near it. All you have is a thousand intellectualized ideas about life. But life? Have you ever measured yourself against anything but your own lousy past? Have you ever faced anything outside yourself? Life! You poor bastard.”
― The Recognitions
― The Recognitions
DAS دعم الأدب السعودي
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Ghadeer’s 2025 Year in Books
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