Abd Gafur > Recent Status Updates

“After your father died, I lived alone rather than take second best. I never wanted another man until I saw Tom. That was 11 years after. I’m telling you this for a reason. It may take 11 years, but you will love someone else one day.”

“...Bran turned in his basket for one last glimpse of the castle that had been his life... Bran told himself, ‘the roots of the trees go deep, and under the ground the Kings of Winter sit their thrones.’ So long as those remained, Winterfell remained. It was not dead, just broken.”
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I know where the story goes, but that last paragraph still feels kind of sad.

“You once told me that the human eye is god's loneliest creation. How so much of the world passes through the pupil and still it holds nothing. The eye, alone in its socket, doesn't even know there's another one, just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty.”

The problem with crying silently was that it hurt, and it took all your concentration.

“The only trick of friendship, I think, is to find people who are better than you are - not smarter, not cooler, but kinder, and more generous, and more forgiving - and then to appreciate them for what they can teach you, and try to listen to them when they tell you something about yourself, no matter how bad - or good - it might be, and to trust them, which is the hardest thing of all. But the best, as well.”

“Fair” is never an answer. But it’s always a consideration.. Fairness is a concept taught to nice children: it is the governing principle of kindergarten and summer camps and playgrounds and soccer field. Fairness is for happy people, for people who have been lucky enough to have lived a life defined more by certainties than by ambiguities.

“If I were a different kind of person, I might say that this whole incident is a metaphor for life in general: things get broken, and sometimes they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully.

“Actually — maybe I am that kind of person after all.

“Love, Harold.”

You understood that proof of your friendship lay in keeping your distance, in accepting what was told you, in turning and walking away when the door was shut in your face instead of trying to force it open again.

​College transported me to a new town, where I tried, one more time, to reinvent myself. Becoming someone new, I could correct the errors of my past. At first I was optimistic, I could pull it off. But in the end, no matter where I went, I could never change. Over and over I made the same mistake, hurt other people, and hurt myself in the bargain.

"But I didn't understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair."

I loved to read and to listen to music. I started to go to the library, devouring every book I could lay my hands on. It was like an addiction; I read while I ate, on the train, in bed until late at night, in school, where I'd keep the book hidden so I could read during class.
But I had almost no desire to talk with anyone about the experience I gained through books. I'm being happy just being me and no one else.

You prefer to think things over all by yourself, and you don't like people peeking inside your head. You're used to thinking and acting alone. You figure that as long as you understand something, that's enough.

The day his father left, Franz and his mother went into town together, and as they left home Franz noticed that her shoes did not match. He was in a quandary: he wanted to point out her mistake, but was afraid he would hurt her. So during the two hours they spent walking through the city together he kept his eyes fixed on her feet. It was then he had his first inkling of what it means to suffer.

While people are fairly young and the musical composition of their lives still in its opening bars, they can go about writing it together and exchange motifs, but if they meet when they are older, their musical compositions are more or less complete, and every motif, every object, means something different to each of them.

"Being in a foreign country means walking a tightrope high above the ground without the net afforded a person by the country where he has his family, colleagues, and friends, and where he can easily say what he has to say in a language he has known from childhood."

We can never know what to want, because, we live only one life. There is no means of testing which decision is better because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That's why life is always like a sketch.

In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.

I think people believe in heaven because they don't like the idea of dying, because they want to carry on living and they don't like the idea that other people will move into their house and put their things into the rubbish.

Tetapi apa arti seratus juta orang mati? Di waktu perang hampir tidak diketahui lagi apa arti orang mati. Dan karena seorang mati hanya berarti jika mayatnya ditemukan atau dikenal, maka seratus juta mayat yang tersebar dalam sejarah hanya merupakan asap dalam khayalan.

Tetapi apa arti seratus juta orang mati? Di waktu perang hampir tidak diketahui lagi apa arti orang mati. Dan karena seorang mati hanya berarti jika mayatnya ditemukan atau dikenal, maka seratus juta mayat yang tersebar dalam sejarah hanya merupakan asap dalam khayalab.

Calon bintang 5, sepertinya.