Shucheta

“তখন পোস্টমাস্টার ছিলেন যতীন বিশ্বাস নামে এক ভদ্রলোক। তিনি ডাকের কাজ ও তারের কাজ দুইই করিতেন; সেইজন্য আমরা তাঁহার নাম দিয়াছিলাম ডাকতার।”
― প্রমথনাথ বিশী, রবীন্দ্রনাথ ও শান্তিনিকেতন

“I've found what I was looking for, Child: what people call love between a man and a woman is a season. And if, at its flowering, this season is a feast of greenery, at its waning, it's only a heap of rotting leaves.”
― Oriana Fallaci, Letter to a Child Never Born

“Her concern with landscapes and living creatures was passionate. This concern, feebly called, "the love of nature" seemed to Shevek to be something much broader than love. There are souls, he thought, whose umbilicus has never been cut. They never got weaned from the universe. They do not understand death as an enemy; they look forward to rotting and turning into humus. It was strange to see Takver take a leaf into her hand, or even a rock. She became an extension of it, it of her.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin, The Dispossessed: An Ambiguous Utopia

“Now I saw his lifeless state. And that there was no longer any difference between what once had been my father and the table he was lying on, or the floor on which the table stood, or the wall socket beneath the window, or the cable running to the lamp beside him. For humans are merely one form among many, which the world produces over and over again, not only in everything that lives but also in everything that does not live, drawn in sand, stone, and water. And death, which I have always regarded as the greatest dimension of life, dark, compelling, was no more than a pipe that springs a leak, a branch that cracks in the wind, a jacket that slips off a clothes hanger and falls to the floor.”
― Karl Ove Knausgård, Min kamp 1