John Irvine
https://www.goodreads.com/edinjock
“Tous les grands divertissement sont dangereux [...]; mais entre tous ceux que le monde a inventés, il n'y en a point qui soit plus à craindre que la comedie. C'est une représentation si naturelle et si délicate des passions, qu'elle les émeut et les fait naitre dans notre coeur, et surtout celle de l'amour; principalement lorsqu'on le représente fort chaste et fort honnete. Car plus il parait innocent aux ames innocentes, plus elles sont capables d'en etre touchées; sa violence plait a notre amour-propre, qui forme un desir de causer les memes effets, que l'on voit si bien représentes; et l'on se fait en meme temps une conscience fondée sur l'honneteté des sentiments qu'on y voit, qui otent la crainte des ames pures, qui s'imaginent que ce n'est pas blesser la pureté, d'aimer d'un amour qui leur semble si sage.”
― Pensées
― Pensées
“No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief-
woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing —
Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked 'No ling-
ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief'.
O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.”
― The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief-
woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing —
Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked 'No ling-
ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief'.
O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.”
― The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins
“The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of... We know the truth not only by the reason, but by the heart.”
― Pensées
― Pensées
“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.”
― The Go-Between
― The Go-Between
John’s 2025 Year in Books
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