Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Quotes. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Quotes. Mostrar todas las entradas

sábado, 24 de julio de 2010

Francis Scott Fitzgerald


Yet high over the city our line of yellow windows must have contributed their share of human secrecy to the casual watcher in the darkening streets, and I saw him too, looking up and wondering. I was within and without, simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.
The Great Gatsby

lunes, 24 de mayo de 2010

Poppy Z. Brite


Muy bien, pensé. Me hundiría en la tierra, vertería los jugos nutritivos de mi cuerpo en las raíces de brezo, dejaría que los los gusanos y los escarabajos desmenuzasen la masa de carne tierna entre mis huesos. Pero la tierra tampoco me aceptaba. Estaba atrapado dentro de la bóveda de cielo, tierra y mar, separado de todos ellos y fundido solamente con mi propia carne miserable.
El arte más íntimo

martes, 18 de mayo de 2010

Neil Campbell


As in a complex transfusion, any closed system needs "new blood", any rooted space needs rerouting and opening up, any house must be unhoused.
The Rhizomatic West

sábado, 15 de mayo de 2010

Lavina Fielding Anderson


The way we arrange the words is determined by and in turn determines the way we arrange our reality.
The Grammar of Inequity in Women and Authority

martes, 30 de marzo de 2010

La Bien Querida


Esta mañana escuché en el jardín de tu casa
una canción que decía algo parecido
a lo que venía pensando
mientras tú leías un libro
y me quedé sin palabras
porque no tuve ni tengo el valor de decirlo
"De momento abril"

martes, 9 de marzo de 2010

Hasier Larretxea


La libertad
es abandonar en pocos segundos
todo lo que te rodea
y comenzar una nueva vida.
Tener la oportunidad de hacerlo,
sin saber a dónde ir, ni qué hacer.
Azken bala / La última bala

Sofía Castañón


Como en las películas, aún creemos
en la magia del verano
el poder del amor
la voluntad del destino.
Animales interiores

lunes, 8 de marzo de 2010

Isaac Brock


Your body may be gone
I'm gonna carry you in
in my head in my heart in my soul
and maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both live again
Well
I don't know I don't know I don't think so
Oceans Breathes Salty in Good News For People Who Love Bad News

martes, 2 de marzo de 2010

Robert F. Sayre


American poetry is autobiographical because the ideas need embodiment in a person, and the most available person is not Columbus, or Hiawatha, or John Brown but the poet who represents these and all other heroes.
Autobiography and the Making of America in Autobiography: Essays Theoretical and Critical de James Olney

lunes, 1 de marzo de 2010

Leopoldo Sánchez Torre


... la poesía no puede dar vueltas sobre sí misma y repetirse sin cesar y sin sonrojo; si queremos decir - si queremos, por ejemplo, decir de amor, después de siglos de tradición petrarquista - no debemos hacerlo ya sin la distancia irónica, sin la perspectiva esquinada, sin el asedio a los márgenes. Hablemos del amor en los tiempos del crédito, hagamos cuentas con las hipotecas del amor ("el precio de un pedazo de vida / que unos tienen / y otros no"), sencillamente: crudamente.
Elogio de la dispersión, en Animales interiores de Sofía Castañón

martes, 23 de febrero de 2010

Tom Wolfe


For the grand debut of Monte Carlo as a resort in 1879 the architect Charles Garnier designed an opera house for the Place du Casino; and Sarah Bernhardt read a symbolic poem. For the debut of Las Vegas as a resort in 1946 Bugsy Siegel hired Abbott and Costello, and there, in a way, you have it all.
Las Vegas (What?) ... (Can't hear you! Too noisy) Las Vegas!!!!)

sábado, 13 de febrero de 2010

Hélène Cixous


I meant most of the time we don't live, we exist. We call that living but it's not true. We exist or we survive. Living is a battle. It changes all the time. Living according to changes is also something that belongs to that work of truth that I believe in.
"Difficult Joy" in The Body and The Text: Hélène Cixous, Reading and Teaching

miércoles, 3 de febrero de 2010

Eddie Vedder


It's a mistery to me
we have a greed
with which we have agreed

You think you have to want
more than you need
until you have it all you won't be free

society, you're a crazy breed
I hope you're not lonely without me
Society (Into the Wild)

Cormac McCarthy


Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that.
You forget some things, dont you?
Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.
The Road

viernes, 29 de enero de 2010

Beñat Arginzoniz


Alguien dijo que en la infancia vivimos y luego sobrevivimos. Y es que eso que se llama madurar, por lo general, apenas viene a significar otra cosa que el haberse dado por vencido, y, habiendo delegado en otros la propia lucha, dejar de ser. Una lucha que nada tiene que ver con el sexo o el poder, ni con ninguna de las formas que el dinero pueda adoptar a los ojos ciegos de la mayoría.
Agua para los muertos: Apuntes sobre Javi Subversión X

Wallace Stegner


No place, not even a wild place, is a place until it has had that human attention that at its highest reach we call poetry.
Where the Bluebird Sings to the Lemonade Springs: Living and Writing in the West

viernes, 22 de enero de 2010

Orson Scott Card



What's going on here in Steuben is so evil and he is so good and pure that he can't help but feel it... The rest of us, we've got good and evil mixed up in us, and our own badness makes so much noise we can't hear the evil of the monster out there... The evil that pushed those names into his mind, that is real.
Lost Boys

sábado, 16 de enero de 2010

Nacho Vegas


Si pudiera elegir
sólo un deseo
pediría vivir
siempre cerca del cielo.
Un cielo tan real
como el abismo,
en una guerra tan cruel
como la de uno contra uno mismo.
Cerca del cielo

jueves, 14 de enero de 2010

Martin Etchart


"Teach me," I said.
"Zer?"
"Basque," I said.
"Say please," Aitatxi said.
"Please."
"In Euskara."
"Plazer baduzu," I said, surprised at the words that came out of my mouth.
"Untxa," Aitatxi smiled. "Zure bihotza, it remember"
The Good Oak

lunes, 4 de enero de 2010

Gregory Martin


Later that winter, my uncle George carves Gramps a cane. Like most canes, it has a round rubber shoe on its bottom and a smooth, curved handle. Below the curve, George has engraved the bust of a mustang, the details so intricately rendered that it must have taken him days to finish. George wants Gramps to see the horse with his fingers. The horse's neck arched and rearing back, its eyes rolling wildly, its nostrils flared. Gramps has always refused to use a cane before, and so George makes him one he has to use, or else seem ungrateful. George is banking on that. The cane's craftmanship is also, in another way, a credit to George's consideration. People lavish attention on the cane, on how well it was made, and not on the fact that Gramps now has to use one. George has been around too many old cowboys not to know a few things about pride.
Mountain City