“Я хочу хоть с одним человеком обо всем говорить как с собой”
― Идиот
― Идиот
“He wants to be your friend,” I said to my son, who now plucked up the courage to look the new boy in the eye.
“What language are you speaking?” the boy asked with a smile.
My son looked at me as though requesting permission to embark on a new relationship, already forgetting his former teacher, and I nodded, permitting him to take matters into his own hands.
“Arabic,” my son told the boy, smiling.
“Ichsa,” the boy said in response, and went on staring at my son for a moment before returning to his mother’s arms.
I will never forget the look that passed across my son’s face. It was a look that gave me the chills and made my hands shake as I went on drying his wet body. It was a look that passed rapidly from smile to stunned gaze, affront, and finally accusation. A look that I heard telling me, “Why did you lie to me, why didn’t you do something, it’s all your fault.”
― Native: Dispatches from an Israeli-Palestinian Life
“What language are you speaking?” the boy asked with a smile.
My son looked at me as though requesting permission to embark on a new relationship, already forgetting his former teacher, and I nodded, permitting him to take matters into his own hands.
“Arabic,” my son told the boy, smiling.
“Ichsa,” the boy said in response, and went on staring at my son for a moment before returning to his mother’s arms.
I will never forget the look that passed across my son’s face. It was a look that gave me the chills and made my hands shake as I went on drying his wet body. It was a look that passed rapidly from smile to stunned gaze, affront, and finally accusation. A look that I heard telling me, “Why did you lie to me, why didn’t you do something, it’s all your fault.”
― Native: Dispatches from an Israeli-Palestinian Life
“By reinforcing every part, he weakens every part.”
― The Art of War
― The Art of War
“It's very nice to say 'And if you will it, it is no dream', But what if you stop willing? Or if there's no strength left in you to will anymore?”
― To the End of the Land
― To the End of the Land
“The works of the roots of the vines, of the trees, must be destroyed to keep up the price, and this is the saddest, bitterest thing of all. Carloads of oranges dumped on the ground. The people came for miles to take the fruit, but this could not be. How would they buy oranges at twenty cents a dozen if they could drive out and pick them up? And men with hoses squirt kerosene on the oranges, and they are angry at the crime, angry at the people who have come to take the fruit. A million people hungry, needing the fruit- and kerosene sprayed over the golden mountains. And the smell of rot fills the country. Burn coffee for fuel in the ships. Burn corn to keep warm, it makes a hot fire. Dump potatoes in the rivers and place guards along the banks to keep the hungry people from fishing them out. Slaughter the pigs and bury them, and let the putrescence drip down into the earth.
There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.”
― The Grapes of Wrath
There is a crime here that goes beyond denunciation. There is a sorrow here that weeping cannot symbolize. There is a failure here that topples all our success. The fertile earth, the straight tree rows, the sturdy trunks, and the ripe fruit. And children dying of pellagra must die because a profit cannot be taken from an orange. And coroners must fill in the certificate- died of malnutrition- because the food must rot, must be forced to rot. The people come with nets to fish for potatoes in the river, and the guards hold them back; they come in rattling cars to get the dumped oranges, but the kerosene is sprayed. And they stand still and watch the potatoes float by, listen to the screaming pigs being killed in a ditch and covered with quick-lime, watch the mountains of oranges slop down to a putrefying ooze; and in the eyes of the people there is the failure; and in the eyes of the hungry there is a growing wrath. In the souls of the people the grapes of wrath are filling and growing heavy, growing heavy for the vintage.”
― The Grapes of Wrath
Catching up on Classics (and lots more!)
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קבוצת ספרני גודרידס העברית
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