Bepina Vragec

“And now I will hazard a second assertion, which is more disputable perhaps, to the effect that on or about December 1910 human character changed. I am not saying that one went out, as one might into a garden, and there saw that a rose had flowered, or that a hen had laid an egg. The change was not sudden and definite like that. But a change there was, nevertheless; and, since one must be arbitrary, let us date it about the year 1910. The first signs of it are recorded in the books of Samuel Butler, in The Way of All Flesh in particular; the plays of Bernard Shaw continue to record it. In life one can see the change, if I may use a homely illustration, in the character of one's cook. The Victorian cook lived like a leviathan in the lower depths, formidable, silent, obscure, inscrutable; the Georgian cook is a creature of sunshine and fresh air; in and out of the drawing-room, now to borrow The Daily Herald, now to ask advice about a hat. Do you ask for more solemn instances of the power of the human race to change? Read the Agamemnon and see whether, in process of time, your sympathies are not almost entirely with Clytemnestra. Or consider the married life of the Carlyles, and bewail the waste, the futility, for him and for her, of the horrible domestic tradition which made it seemly for a woman of genius to spend her time chasing beetles, scouring saucepans, instead of writing books. All human relations have shifted—those between masters and servants, husbands and wives, parents and children. And when human relations change there is at the same time a change in religion, conduct, politics, and literature. Let us agree to place one of these changes about the year 1910.”
― Virginia Woolf, Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown

“Cveta trešnja u planini,
Proleće se na put sprema.
Sve je isto u mom kraju,
Samo mene više nema.

Zeleni se loza vita
Oko starog kućnog trema.
Sve je isto kao nekad,
Samo mene više nema.”
― Dušan Kovačević, Sabirni centar

“Hej Slovani, naša reč
Slovanska živo klije

These words are for those who died,
These words are for those left behind.
These words are for you, Poland,
And these ones for my homeland.

Živi, živi, duh slovanski,
For the spirit of our fathers,
For the glory of our sons,
Bodi živ na veke
For the power of the Spectre,
For the Holly Alliance

Let stones crack,
Let the earth quake
And let the tempest roar!

Let stones crack,
Let the earth quake,
Let freedom rise!

Hej Slovani, naša reč
Slovanska živo klije,
These words are for lovers,
These words are for their heart beats.
Dokler naše verno srce
Za naš narod bije
These words are for warriors
And these ones for all communists.

Živi, živi, duh slovanski,
Out of the feudal darkness,
Away from the Nameless One
Bodi živ na veke
We stand alone in history,
Facing East in sacrifice

*Slovania”
― Laibach, Volk

“Oh, Cassandra, for Heaven's sake let us devise a method by which men may bear children! It is our only chance. For unless we provide them with some innocent occupation we shall get neither good people nor good books; we shall perish beneath the fruits of their unbridled activity; and not a human being will survive to know that there once was Shakespeare!”
― Virginia Woolf, A Society