Deaf Republic Quotes

At the trial of God, we will ask: why did you allow all this? And the answer will be an echo: why did you allow all this?

You can fuck anyone—but with whom can you sit in water?

I practise selective deafness to hurtful remarks.

Question What is a child? A quiet between two bombardments.

The deaf don't believe in silence. Silence is the invention of the hearing.

Lord, such fire from a match you never lit.

I do not hear gunshots, but watch birds splash over the backyards of the suburbs. How bright is the sky as the avenue spins on its axis. How bright is the sky (forgive me) how bright.

The body of the boy lies on the asphalt like a paperclip. The body of the boy lies on the asphalt like the body of a boy.

And when they bombed other people's houses, we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America was falling: invisible house by invisble house by invisble house -- I tooka a chair outside and watched the sun. In the sixth month of a disastrous reignin the house of money in the street of money in the city of money in the country of money, our great country of money, we (forgive us) lived happily during the war.

What is silence? Something of the sky in us.

At the trial of God, we will ask: why did you allow all this? And the answer will be an echo: why did you allow all this?

Today I have to screw on the expression of a person thought I am at most an animal and the animal I am spirals

Be courageous, we say, but no one is courageous, as a sound we do not hear lifts the birds off the water.

Watch, God— deaf have something to tell that not even they can hear.

You are alive, I whisper to myself, therefore something in you listens.

And when they bombed other people's houses, we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America was falling: invisible house by invisble house by invisble house -- I took a a chair outside and watched the sun. In the sixth month of a disastrous reign in the house of money in the street of money in the city of money in the country of money, our great country of money, we (forgive us) lived happily during the war.

She scrubs me until I spit soapy water. Pig, she smiles. A man should smell better than his country— such is the silence of a woman who speaks against silence, knowing silence moves us to speak. She throws my shoes and glasses in the air, I am of deaf people and I have no country but a bathtub and an infant and a marriage bed! Soaping together is sacred to us. Washing each other’s shoulders. You can fuck anyone—but with whom can you sit in water?

You step out of the shower and the entire nation calms— a drop of lemon-egg shampoo, you smell like bees, a brief kiss, I don’t know anything about you—except the spray of freckles on your shoulders! which makes me feel so thrillingly alone. I stand on earth in my pajamas, penis sticking out— for years in your direction.

Deafness is suspended above blue tin roofs and copper eaves; deafness feeds on birches, light posts, hospital roofs, bells; deafness rests in our men's chests.

I am your boy drowning in this country, who doesn’t know the word for drowning and yells I am diving for the last time!

Observe this moment -how it convulses- The body of the boy lies on the asphalt like a paperclip. The body of the boy lies on the asphalt like the body of a boy.

Imagine then a fleet or a ship in which there is a captain who is taller and stronger than any of the crew, but he is a little deaf and has a similar infirmity in sight, and his knowledge of navigation is not much better. The sailors are quarrelling with one another about the steering --every one is of opinion that he has a right to steer, though he has never learned the art of navigation and cannot tell who taught him or when he learned, and will further assert that it cannot be taught, and they are ready to cut in pieces any one who says the contrary. They throng about the captain, begging and praying him to commit the helm to them; and if at any time they do not prevail, but others are preferred to them, they kill the others or throw them overboard, and having first chained up the noble captain's senses with drink or some narcotic drug, they mutiny and take possession of the ship and make free with the stores; thus, eating and drinking, they proceed on their voyage in such a manner as might be expected of them. Him who is their partisan and cleverly aids them in their plot for getting the ship out of the captain's hands into their own whether by force or persuasion, they compliment with the name of sailor, pilot, able seaman, and abuse the other sort of man, whom they call a good-for-nothing; but that the true pilot must pay attention to the year and seasons and sky and stars and winds, and whatever else belongs to his art, if he intends to be really qualified for the command of a ship, and that he must and will be the steerer, whether other people like or not-the possibility of this union of authority with the steerer's art has never seriously entered into their thoughts or been made part of their calling. Now in vessels which are in a state of mutiny and by sailors who are mutineers, how will the true pilot be regarded? Will he not be called by them a prater, a star-gazer, a good-for-nothing?

As Bell stood in silence, watching the judges turn their backs to him and begin to walk away, he suddenly heard a familiar voice. “How do you do, Mr. Bell?” Surprised, he turned to find Emperor Dom Pedro II of Brazil, his full, white beard neatly trimmed, his deep-set eyes bright with curiosity, looking directly at him. A passionate promoter of the sciences, Dom Pedro had asked to accompany the judges on their rounds that morning, perfectly happy to be in the tropical-like heat that reminded him of home. When he saw Bell standing in the crowd of some fifty judges and a handful of hovering inventors, he immediately recognized him as the talented teacher of the deaf whom he had met in Boston.

How could a republic resist, for all time, every cause which undermines its freedom? How could it always contain the ambition of the would-be princes which it also nourishes? How could it withstand for long the seductions of the usurper, the practical deaf person, and the corruption of its members, as long as self-interest will be all-powerful in men? How can it hope to always win, or even leave with honour, every war which it will have to support? How will it be able to prevent these annoying economic situations that come with its freedom, these moments critical and decisive - these and other chances from which arise both the courageous ones and the corrupt? If the troops are ordered by loose and timid heads, it will become the prey of its enemies; and if they have as the head of their soldiers men that are vigorous and bold, these same men, after having been vital in the war, will be dangerous in peace.

In these avenues, deafness is our only barricade.

Deafness isn't an illness! It's a sexual position!

A man should smell better than his country

As devious as this plot was, it could never have succeeded to the degree that it did had Clinton not abetted it with such vigor. That summer, she failed to emerge as the overwhelming front-runner everyone had expected, weighed down by stories on Clinton Foundation “buckraking” and the revelation that she had kept a private e-mail server as secretary of state and destroyed much of her correspondence. She also refused to release transcripts of highly paid speeches she’d delivered to Goldman Sachs and other Wall Street firms. In August, e-mails surfaced showing that Bill Clinton, through the foundation, had sought State Department permission to accept speaking fees in repressive countries such as North Korea and the Republic of the Congo. A poll the same day found that the word voters associated most with his wife was “liar.” Clinton’s tone-deaf response to the steady drip of revelations only deepened their impact because