Ry

“Niçin rüzgarlı sonbahar akşamlarında, sessizce yan yana yürüyerek ruhlarımızın konuştuğunu dinleyemiyoruz?”
― Sabahattin Ali, Kürk Mantolu Madonna

“What am I in this instant? I’m a typewriter making the dry echo in the dark, humid dawn. I haven’t been human for a long time. They wanted me to be an object. I am an object. An object dirty with blood. An object that creates other objects and the machine creates us all. It makes demands. Mechanisms make endless demands on my life. But I don’t totally obey: if I have to be an object, let me be an object that screams. There’s something inside of me that hurts. Oh, how it hurts and how it screams for help. But tears aren’t there in the machine that is me. I’m an object without a destiny. I’m an object in whose hands? such is my human destiny. What saves me is the scream. I protest in the name of what’s inside the object behind the behind of the thought-feeling. I’m an urgent object.”
― Clarice Lispector, The Stream of Life

“Hiçbir şey beni, hakkımdaki bir kanaati düzeltmek kadar korkutmazdı.”
― Sabahattin Ali, Kürk Mantolu Madonna

“Time to leave now, get out of this room, go somewhere, anywhere; sharpen this feeling of happiness and freedom, stretch your limbs, fill your eyes, be awake, wider awake, vividly awake in every sense and every pore.”
― Stefan Zweig, The Post-Office Girl