Latvian Love Quotes

Summer is a Latvian chicken. We make foolish choices. We think we’re young again. We run with outstretched arms toward an object of love and it pecks us and pecks us until we’re standing there snot-nosed and teary in the middle of Astor Place and the sun sets fire to our Penguin shirts and all that is left to do is go to our air-conditioned homes and ponder the cruelty of our finest season.

This was a leavetaking from near and dear ones, with whom I had spent sitxeen years, suffered away together. We had sorrowed together, been joyful together, worked together, and celebrated together. We had argued, had altercations, gossiped, lied about one another, but on important occasions — through joy, sorrow, tragedy — always been one solid, self-sacrificing family. I had helped the others the least, but been helped the most. I owed an enormous debt to every one of these guests, but it was impossible to put my gratitude into words. The language of tears was also already too trite and shallow. The Latvians did not expect anything in return for their love. They saw me off to the homeland as their sister.

The Latvian painter has a special love for diffused outdoor light which seems to penetrate the bodies and emanate from them," a light that reappears within, and from behind, Rothko's paintings, an illumination glimpsed through a hazy doorway or window, a light longed for but beyond reach.

The Latvian painter has a special love for diffused outdoor light which seems to penetrate the bodies and emanate from them," a light that reappears within, and from behind, Rothko's paintings, an illumination glimpsed through a hazy doorway or window, a light longed for but beyond reach.

Tu dzirdēji mani, Tu saprati mani. Tu ienāci manas dvēseles dubļos basām kājām kā pļavā- Un dubļi iesāka ziedēt

My grandfather Alexander and my grandmother Shlomit, with my father and his elder brother David, on the other hand, did not go to Palestine even though they were also ardent Zionists: the conditions of life there seemed too Asiatic to them, so they went to Vilna, the capital of Lithuania, and arrived there only in 1933, by which time, as it turned out, anti-Semitism in Vilna had grown to the point of violence against Jewish students. My Uncle David especially was a confirmed European, at a time when, it seems, no one else in Europe was, apart from the members of my family and other Jews like them. Everyone else turns out to have been Pan-Slavic, PanGermanic, or simply Latvian, Bulgarian, Irish, or Slovak patriots. The only Europeans in the whole of Europe in the 1920s and 1930s were the Jews. My father always used to say: In Czechoslovakia there are three nations, the Czechs, the Slovaks, and the Czecho-Slovaks, i.e., the Jews; in Yugoslavia there are Serbs, Croats, Slovenes, and Montenegrines, but, even there, there lives a group of unmistakable Yugoslavs; and even in Stalin’s empire there are Russians, there are Ukrainians, and there are Uzbeks and Chukchis and Tatars, and among them are our brethren, the only real members of a Soviet nation.

Vienmēr kā pacelta Zvēra ķetna blakus ir drauds, ka nāve iesprauksies starp diviem un atņems to otro.

Vizma usually loved walking through the streets of Riga. She would pick up her laundry or go on an errand and when she gave her name, there were no puzzled looks, no half smiles. She had a wonderful Latvian name and no one in Riga thought it was funny or weird.