Luna Park Quotes

Life is like the big wheel at Luna Park. You pay five francs and go into a room with tiers of seats all around, and in the centre the floor is made of a great disc of polished wood that revolves quickly. At first you sit down and watch the others. They are all trying to sit in the wheel, and they keep getting flung off, and that makes them laugh too. It's great fun. You see, the nearer you can get to the hub of the wheel the slower it is moving and the easier it is to stay on. There's generally someone in the centre who stands up and sometimes does a sort of dance. Often he's paid by the management, though, or, at any rate, he's allowed in free. Of course at the very centre there's a point completely at rest, if one could only find it; I'm not very near that point myself. Of course the professional men get in the way. Lots of people just enjoy scrambling on and being whisked off and scrambling on again. How they all shriek and giggle! Then there are others, like Margot, who sit as far out as they can and hold on for dear life and enjoy that. But the whole point about the wheel is that you needn't get on it at all, if you don't want to. People get hold of ideas about life, and that makes them think they've got to join in the game, even if they don't enjoy it. It doesn't suit everyone. People don't see that when they say "life" they mean two different things. They can mean simply existence, with its physiological implications of growth and organic change. They can't escape that - even by death, but because that's inevitable they think the other idea of life is too - the scrambling and excitement and bumps and the effort to get to the middle, and when we do get to the middle, it's just as if we never started. It's so odd. Now you're a person who was clearly meant to stay in the seats and sit still and if you get bored watch the others. Somehow you got on to the wheel, and you got thrown off again at once with a hard bump. It's all right for Margot, who can cling on, and for me, at the centre, but you're static. Instead of this absurd division into sexes they ought to class people as static and dynamic. There's a real distinction there, though I can't tell you how it comes. I think we're probably two quite different species spiritually.

Maybe his shifting isn't just physical. Maybe it applies to his feelings too, because I don't see how he can walk around eating candy at Luna Park as we take my English teacher practically hostage.

«Tutti abbiamo il nostro momento d'oro. E dopo, è bello ricordarlo. Se fosse sempre il nostro momento d'oro non ce ne accorgeremmo neanche». «Quand'è stato il tuo momento d'oro» mi chiede Mara. Ci penso un po' su e poi rispondo: «Una volta ho vinto un pesce rosso al Luna Park». Segue un rispettoso silenzio.

remains a showman

Shall I tell you about life? Well, it's like the big wheel at Luna Park. You pay five francs and go into a room with tiers of seats all round, and in the centre the floor is made of a great disc of polished wood that revolves quickly. At first you sit down and watch the others. They are all trying to sit in the wheel, and they keep getting flung off, and that makes them laugh, and you laugh too. It's great fun. It is very much like life. You see, the nearer you can get to the hub of the wheel the slower it is moving and the easier it is to stay on. There's generally some one in the centre who stands up and sometimes does a sort of dance. Often he's paid by the management, though, or, at any rate, he's allowed in free. Of course at the very centre there's a point completely at rest, if one could only find it. I'm not sure I am not very near that point myself. Of course the professional men get in the way. Lots of people just enjoy scrambling on and being whisked off and scrambling on again. How they all shriek and giggle! Then there are others who sit as far out as they can and hold on for dear life and enjoy that. But the whole point about the wheel is that you needn't get on it at all, if you don't want to. People get hold of ideas about life, and that makes them think they've got to join in the game, even if they don't enjoy it. It doesn't suit every one.

Life cannot offer many places finer to stand at eight-thirty on a summery weekday morning than Circular Quay in Sydney. To begin with, it presents one of the world’s great views. To the right, almost painfully brilliant in the sunshine, stands the famous Opera House with its jaunty, severely angular roof. To the left, the stupendous and noble Harbour Bridge. Across the water, shiny and beckoning, is Luna Park, a Coney Island–style amusement park with a maniacally grinning head for an entrance. (It’s been closed for many years, but some heroic soul keeps it spruce and gleaming.) Before you the spangly water is crowded with the harbor’s stout and old-fashioned ferries, looking for all the world as if they have been plucked from the pages of a 1940s children’s book with a title like Thomas the Tugboat, disgorging streams of tanned and lightly dressed office workers to fill the glass and concrete towers that loom behind.

Although both the U.S. and Canadian sides of the falls are well worth visiting, the best views, including nighttime illumination, are from the beautifully manicured flower gardens that line the Canadian side. However, to get up-close-and-personal with the falls, visit Niagara Falls State Park in New York, where there are several locations, including Prospect Point, Luna Island, Terrapin Point, and the Three Sisters Islands, that allow visitors to stand within a few feet of the raging rapids and at the brink of the falls.

was laughable. An aisle stretched down the middle of the ballroom, defined by candelabras topped with more pale orbs, their light flickering like little flames. The aisle runner was black and set with rhinestones in mimicry of the night sky. Or, the always sky, as it was here on Luna. A hush fell over the room, and Kai could tell it was not a normal hush. It was too controlled, too flawless. His heart pounded, uncontrolled in its cage. This was the moment he’d been dreading, the fate he’d fought against for so long. No one was going to interfere. He was alone and rooted to the floor. At the far back of the room, the massive doors opened, chorused with a fanfare of horns. At the end of the aisle, two shadows emerged—a man and a woman in militaristic uniforms carrying the flags of Luna and the Eastern Commonwealth. After they parted, setting the flags into stands on either side of the altar, a series of Lunar guards marched into the room, fully armed and synchronized. They, too, spread out when they reached the altar, like a protective wall around the dais. Next down the aisle were six thaumaturges dressed in black, walking in pairs, graceful as black swans. They were followed by two in red, and finally Head Thaumaturge Aimery Park, all in white. A voice dropped down from some hidden speakers. “All rise for Her Royal Majesty, Queen Levana Blackburn of Luna.” The people rose. Kai clasped his shaking hands behind his back. She appeared as a silhouette first in the lights of the doors, a perfect hourglass dropping off to a full billowing skirt that flowed behind her. She walked with her head high, gliding toward

Bingo Junio-Julio-Agosto  Lord Voldemort (un libro que trate sobre la muerte): Un mosntruo viene a verme de Patrick Ness. Conor tiene que lidiar con el temor constante de que su madre muera a causa del cancer y es ahí cuando aparece el monstruo que le hace ver la realidad  Regulus Black (libro que el protagonista tenga un familia rara/malvada/numerosa): La tempestad de Shakespeare. Prospero es traicionado por su hermano y es mandando a una isla en el medio de la nada; Prospero jura venganza mediante sus poderes mágicos.  Barty Crouch Jr (libro que el/la protagonista participe en una secta o investigue sobre las mismas): Las chicas de Emma Cline. Evie se ve envuelta en una secta cuando es abandonada por su mejor amiga y su unica amiga en el mundo.  Fenrir Breyback (libro que tenga licántropos): Luna Nueva de Stephenie Meyer. Bella es abandonada por Edward, se acerca mas a jacob y descubre que el es un hombre lobo  Bellatrix Lestrange (libro en el que el romance tóxico sea lo principal) La selección de Kiera Cass. America Singer se ve envuelta en un triangulo amoroso entre el principe de Íllea, Maxon, y su amor de la ciudad, Aspen.  Draco Malfoy (libro que el/la protagonista sea desertor): Tres espejos; espada de Sebastián Vargas. Jian era un campesino que perdió al amor de su vida y se convierte en un pirata perseguido por el pueblo por ser desertor y huir de luchar en la guerra.  Lucius Malfoy (libro con puterio de ricos) Mansfield Park de Jane Auste. Fanny es adoptada por sus tios ricos y la llevan a vivir a Mansfield Park, ella se ve envuelta en todos los lios, complicaciones y preocupaciones de los ricos, donde cada acción tiene que ser friamente calculada  Petter Pettigrew (libro con animales como protagonistas): El principito de Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. El principito, un hombrecito de traje azul y pelo rubio se hace amigo de un zorro que lo aconseja sobre la vida.  Marietta (libro en que el/la protagonista tenga una doble vida/vida oculta): Heartsong de T.J Klune. Robbie se encuentra en otra manada, con sueño recurrente sobre unos lobos corriendo... Con el paso del tiempo, descubre que la vida que esta viviendo no era su vida.

In 1904, the American government spent $1.5 million taking thirteen hundred Filipinos from a dozen different tribes to the St. Louis Exposition. The Philippine Reservation became one of the most popular features of the fair, and the Igorrotes drew the largest crowds of all. By displaying the tribespeople in this manner, the US government hoped to gain popular support for its occupation of the Philippines by showing the American public that the Filipinos were innocents, a people far from ready for self-government, and in need of paternalistic American protection.

We were carried for many days in houses that went on wheels and flew along like birds. And now it seemed as if the land would never end. We must have come nearly a hundred days’ journey in a week.

I tell her about Luna Park and the Botanical Gardens, and it’s good because I’m talking about the inner city, not my dodgy western suburb with grey buildings covered in garish neon graffiti

It

CHAPTER 14                 We parked across the street from the Quincy Market.  It was cold out, of course, but this part of Boston was never deserted.

Puc Aa-Un [sic], one of the biggest chiefs of the Igorrote tribes on the Island of Luzon, died here of heart disease yesterday at the winter quarters of the band of Igorrotes which were brought here by Dr. TK Hunt a year ago,” reported the Fort Wayne News,

They had journeyed halfway across the world, and had rattled across eleven US states, through wide-open plains and busy railroad junctions. They had grown accustomed to new sights and sounds but nothing could have prepared them for their arrival in America’s greatest city.

«Tutti abbiamo il nostro momento d'oro. E dopo, è bello ricordarlo. Se fosse sempre il nostro momento d'oro non ce ne accorgeremmo neanche». «Quand'è stato il tuo momento d'oro?» mi chiede Mara. Ci penso un po' su e poi rispondo: «Una volta ho vinto un pesce rosso al Luna Park». Segue un rispettoso silenzio.

«Eniwetok e il luna park». Può sembrare strana l'accoppiata fra il luogo dove fu fatto il primo test della bomba H, nelle isole Marshall, e la fiera dei divertimenti di Parigi, così amata dai surrealisti. Ma l'interminabile serie di telegiornali dedicati alle esplosioni nucleari che vedemmo negli anni sessanta (una vera e propria istigazione all'immaginazione psicotica che autorizzava qualsiasi cosa) aveva davvero un'aria carnevalesca. Stanley Kubrick colse perfettamente questa caratteristica dei media nel finale del suo Dottor Stranamore. Mi immagino questi pazienti fare ogni sforzo, a imitazione di Warhol, nel mescolare Freud e Liz Taylor, rifugiandosi immancabilmente a casa ai primi segni di crollo nervoso del proprio dottore. Originariamente la dedica di La mostra delle atrocità avrebbe dovuto essere «Ai pazzi». A loro devo tutto.

Cap parked and got out. It was hot but not humid, and it was glorious. Hot but not humid. Did everyone on the East Coast know about this?

Bingo Octubre- Noviembre- Diciembre" Albus Dumbledore: Memorias del subsuelo. Pone en cuestionamiento la personalidad de las personas y cuestiona al formalismo ruso. Minerva Mcgonagall: Monologos de la vagina. Diferentes discurso de mujeres sobre sus experiencias con la vagina. Alastor Moody: El manifiesto Comunista. Marx critica al capitalismo y da sus pensamientos comunistas. Potter & Longbottom: Almendra. Yunjae, pierde a su abuela en un raro accidente y su madre cae en coma; asi èl tiene que enfrentarse solo a las dificultades de la vida. Sirius Black: Tres espejo; espada. Jin es un campesino que por las vueltas de la vida se convierte en un desertor y en consecuencia en el mejor pirata de la historia. Bemys & Nymphadora: Tres espejos: luna. Yue, es una jovencita de un pueblo de la antigua china, que se enamora de u granjero llamado Jian. Ella siendo de una clase mas alta. Familia Weasley: Mansfield Park. Fanny es una niña cuando sus tios con mejor posiciòn economica se la llevan a Mansfield park para darle una mejor educacion. Kingsley Shacklebolt: Sombra y Hueso. Alina Starkow no espera mucho de la vida hasta que un dia descubre que es una grisha y tiene que luchar contra el señor oscuro. Severus Snape: Quien sabe si mañana seguiremos aqui: Un asesino en serie, que sufre de alzheimer, esta seguro de que su hija esta de novia con otro asesino en serie y hace todo lo posible para salvarla.

Jesiba studied him for a long moment, then frowned. “And Hunt Athalar?” Aidas fell silent as a petitioner stumbled past, hoping to beat the crowds that had filled the Oracle’s Park and Luna’s Temple since portals to his world had opened within the quartz Gates and the beasts of the Pit had taken full advantage of it. Any who had managed to return were currently being punished by one of Aidas’s brothers. He would soon return to join them in it. Aidas said at last, “I think Athalar’s father would have been proud.” “Sentimental of you.” Aidas shrugged as best his feline body

«Conversaciones con la vaca» Em Buenos Aires conheci um escritor argentino muito excêntrico que se chamava, ou chama, Omar Vignole. Ignoro se ainda vive. Era um homem grandote, sempre de grossa bengala na mão. Certo dia, num restaurante do centro, no qual me convidara para comer, já perto da mesa dirigiu-se a mim, com ar deferente, dizendo-me com um vozeirão que ecoou por toda a sala, repleta de fregueses: « Senta-te, Ornar Vignole!» Sentei-me com certo mal-estar e perguntei-lhe acto contínuo: «Porque me chamas Omar Vignole, ciente de que és tu Ornar Vignole e eu Pablo Neruda?» «Sim», respondeu-me, «mas neste restaurante há muitos que só me conhecem de nome e, corno vários deles querem dar-me uma tareia, eu prefiro que a dêem a ti.» Vignole fora agrónomo numa província argentina e trouxera de lá uma vaca com a qual mantinha amizade entranhada. Passeava por Buenos Aires inteira com a sua vaca presa a uma corda. Publicou então alguns livros, que tinham sempre títulos alusivos: Lo que piensa la vaca, Mi vaca y yo, etc., etc. Quando se reuniu pela primeira vez naquela cidade o congresso do Pen Club mundial, os escritores, presididos por Victoria Ocampo, tremiam ante a ideia de ver Vignole chegar ao congresso com a vaca. Explicaram às autoridades o perigo que os ameaçava e a polícia isolou as ruas em torno do Hotel Plaza a fim de evitar a entrada, no luxuoso recinto onde decorria o congresso, do meu excêntrico amigo com o ruminante. Tudo foi inútil. Quando a festa estava no auge e os escritores examinavam as relações entre o mundo clássico dos Gregos e o sentido moderno da história, o grande Vignole irrompeu na sala de conferências com a sua inseparável vaca, que para mais começou a mugir como se pretendesse tomar parte no debate. Trouxera-a até ao centro da cidade dentro de uma enorme furgoneta fechada que iludiu a vigilância policial. Dele contarei ainda que uma vez desafiou um lutador de catch as can. O profissional aceitou o desafio, e chegou a noite do encontro, num Luna Park repleto. O meu amigo apareceu pontualmente com a vaca, amarrou-a a uma esquina do quadrilátero, despiu um roupão elegantíssimo e enfrentou o «Estrangulador de Calcutá». Porém, de nada serviam ali a vaca, nem o sumptuoso atavio do poeta-lutador. O «Estrangulador de Calcutá» atirou-se a Vignole e em três tempos deixou-o transformado num nó indefeso, colocando-lhe, para mais, em sinal de humilhação, um pé sobre a garganta de touro literário, no meio da tremenda assuada de um público feroz que exigia a continuação do combate. Poucos meses depois, publicou um novo livro: Conversaciones con la vaca. Jamais poderei esquecer a originalíssima dedicatória, impressa na primeira página da obra. Dizia, se bem me lembro: «Dedico este livro filosófico aos quarenta mil filhos da puta que me assobiaram e pediram a minha morte no Luna Park na noite de 24 de Fevereiro.»

But silence and the topless dark Vault in the lights of Luna Park; And Blackpool from the nightly gloom Hollows a bright tumultuous tomb." He put it down again, shook his head, and sighed. "What genius I had then!" he reflected, echoing the aged Swift. It was nearly six months since the book had been published; he was glad to think he would never write anything of the same sort again. Who could have been reading it, he wondered?

Here were eighteen human beings living in squalor and being forced to put on a degrading show for the public and the only complaint this party had was about the treatment of the dog.

There is nothing edifying or educational enough in these exhibitions to atone for their evil effects upon the poor savages who are supposed to be the nation’s wards, not its playthings.

If you’re in the city, there’s still the opportunity to connect with nature. Go to the local park, listen to various sounds of nature on your phone, buy a potted plant. When your heart is open, there are endless ways for nature to creep, dig, weave, and sprout its way into your life.

pecuniary advantage, demoralization and dishonesty