نَدى

“ينشأ الإنسان عادة في بيئة ذات عقيدة معينة. فهو لا يكاد يفتح عينه للحياة حتى يرى أمه وأباه وأهل بيته وأقرانه يقدسون صنماً أو قبراً أو رجلاً من رجال التاريخ , وينسبون إليه كل فضيلة. وعقل الإنسان ينمو في هذا الوضع حتى يصبح كأنه في قالب , وهو لا يستطيع أن يفكر إلا في حدود ذلك القالب. إنه مقيَد ويحسب أنه حر. ولهذ نجد كل ذي عقيدة واثقاً من صحة عقيدته وثوقاً تاماً , أما المخالفون له فهم متعصبون – تعساً لهم!”
― علي الوردي, الأحلام: بين العلم والعقيدة

“The first thing I learned at school was that some people are idiots; the second thing I learned was that some are even worse.”
― Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories and the City

“My prolonged study of these photographs led me to appreciate the importance of preserving certain moments for prosperity, and as time moved forwards I also came to see what a powerful influence these framed scenes exerted over us as we went about our daily lives.
To watch my uncle pose my brother a maths problem, and at the same time to see him in a picture taken thirty-two years earlier; to watch my father scanning the newspaper and trying, with a half-smile, to catch the tail of a joke rippling across the crowded room, and at that very same moment to see a picture of him to me that my grandmother had framed and frozen these memories so that we could weave them into the present.When, in the tones ordinarily preserved for discussing the founding of a nation, my grandmother spoke of my grandfather who had died so young, and pointed at the frames on the tables and the walls, it seemed that she, like me, was pulled in two direction , wanting to get on with life but also longing to capture the moment of perfection, savouring the ordinary life but still honouring the ideal. But even as I pondered these dilemmas-if you plucked a special moment from life and framed it, were you defying death, decay and the passage of time, or were you submitting to them? - I grew very bored with them.”
― Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories and the City

“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.”
― Linda Grayson