Madonna Quotes

I'm tough, I'm ambitious, and I know exactly what I want. If that makes me a bitch, okay.

No matter who you are, no matter what you did, no matter where you've come from, you can always change, become a better version of yourself.

We need to reclaim the word 'feminism'. We need the word 'feminism' back real bad. When statistics come in saying that only 29% of American women would describe themselves as feminist - and only 42% of British women - I used to think, What do you think feminism IS, ladies? What part of 'liberation for women' is not for you? Is it freedom to vote? The right not to be owned by the man you marry? The campaign for equal pay? 'Vogue' by Madonna? Jeans? Did all that good shit GET ON YOUR NERVES? Or were you just DRUNK AT THE TIME OF THE SURVEY?

To be brave is to love someone unconditionally, without expecting anything in return. To just give. That takes courage, because we don't want to fall on our faces or leave ourselves open to hurt.

What did Isabelle want?" Jace asked. Alec hesitated. "Isabelle says the Queen of the Seelie Court has requested an audience with us." "Sure," said Magnus. "And Madonna wants me as a backup dancer on her next world tour.

I laugh at myself. I don't take myself completely seriously. I think that's another quality that people have to hold on to... you have to laugh, especially at yourself.

Sick and perverted always appeals to me.

A lot of people are afraid to say what they want. That's why they don't get what they want.

I stand for freedom of expression, doing what you believe in, and going after your dreams.

Sometimes you have to be a bitch to get things done.

If your joy is derived from what society thinks of you, you're always going to be disappointed.

I am my own experiment. I am my own work of art.

İnsanlara ne kadar çok muhtaç olursam onlardan kaçmak ihtiyacım da o kadar artıyordu.

I want to be like Gandhi and Martin Luther King and John Lennon but i want to STAY ALIVE.

It's a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying, "Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn't love me. He just couldn't deal with love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me." Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? And particularly if they replace us with a god, or a weeping madonna, or the face of Christ in a ciabatta roll---then we call them crazy. Deluded. Regressive. We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship. Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water. Not everybody deserves love all the time.

Poor is the man whose pleasure depends on the permission of another.

There's no such thing as the perfect soulmate. If you meet someone and you think they're perfect, you better run as fast as you can in the other direction. 'Cos your soulmate is the person that pushes all your buttons, pisses you off on a regular basis, and makes you face your shit.

Power is being told you're not loved and not being destroyed by it.

Niçin rüzgarlı sonbahar akşamlarında, sessizce yan yana yürüyerek ruhlarımızın konuştuğunu dinleyemiyoruz?

I've been popular and unpopular successful and unsuccessful loved and loathed and I know how meaningless it all is. Therefore I feel free to take whatever risks I want.

Isabelle says the Queen of the Seelie Court has requested an audience with is" Sure" said Magnus. "And Madonna wants me as a backup dancer on her next world tour

What did Isabelle want?" Jace asked. Alec hesitated. "Isabelle says the Queen of the Seelie Court has requested an audience with us." "Sure," said Magnus. "And Madonna wants me as a backup dancer on her next world tour." Alec looked puzzled. "Who's Madonna?" "Who's the Queen of the Seelie Court?" said Clary. "She is the Queen of Faerie," said Magnus. "Well, the local one, anyway." Jace put his head in his hands. "Tell Isabelle no." "But she thinks it's a good idea," Alec protested. "Then tell her no twice.

Isabelle says the Queen of the Seelie Court has requested an audience with us." "Sure," said Magnus. "And Madonna wants me as a backup dancer on her next world tour." Alec looked puzzled. "Who's Madonna?" "Who's the Queen of the Seelie Court?" said Clary. "She is the Queen of Faerie," said Magnus. "Well, the local one, anyway." Jace put his head in his hands. "Tell Isabelle no." "But she thinks it's a good idea," Alec protested. "Then tell her no twice." Alec frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" "Oh, just that some of Isabelle's ideas are world-beaters and some are total disasters. Remember that idea she had about using abandoned subway tunnels to get around under the city? Talk about giant rats—" "Let's not," said Simon. "I'd rather not talk about rats at all, in fact.

I always wished that I could find someone as beautiful as you, but in the process I forgot that I was special too.

Deep in my heart I'm concealing things that I'm longing to say. Scared to confess what I'm feeling - frightened you'll slip away.

When uncle Eddie does his impression of 'Like a Virgin' it's like Madonna is coming out of his body!' Christ what an image.

Only when I'm dancing can I feel this free.

If we maintain the open-mindedness of children, we challenge fixed ideas and established structures, including our own. We listen to people in other denominations and religions. We don't find demons in those with whom we disagree. We don't cozy up to people who mouth our jargon. If we are open, we rarely resort to either-or: either creation or evolution, liberty or law, sacred or secular, Beethoven or Madonna. We focus on both-and, fully aware that God's truth cannot be imprisoned in a small definition.

Dünyada bir tek insana inanmıştım. O kadar çok inanmıştım ki, bunda aldanmış olmak bende artık inanmak kuvveti bırakmamıştı.

Don't confuse fame with success. Madonna is one; Helen Keller is the other.

Hayatta yalnız kalmanın esas olduğunu hâlâ kabul edemiyor musunuz? Bütün yakınlaşmalar, bütün birleşmeler yalancıdır. İnsanlar ancak muayyen bir hadde kadar birbirlerine sokulabilirler, üst tarafını uydururlar; ve günün birinde hatalarını anlayınca, yeislerinden her şeyi bırakıp kaçarlar. Halbuki mümkün olanla kanaat etseler, hayallerindekini hakikat zannetmekten vazgeçseler bu böyle olmaz.

Everyone is entitled to my opinion

Dibinde bir ejderhanın yaşadığı bilinen kuyuya inecek bir kahraman bulmak, muhakkak ki, dibinde ne olduğu hiç bilinmeyen bir kuyuya inmek cesaretini gösterecek bir insan bulmaktan daha kolaydır.

When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I feel like saying something, I say it.

I’m tough, I’m ambitious, and I know exactly what I want. If that makes me a bitch, okay.

Lady Madonna lying on the bed Listen to the music playing in your head.

Everyone probably thinks that I'm a raving nymphomaniac, that I have an insatiable sexual appetite, when the truth is I'd rather read a book.

İnsanlar birbirlerini tanımanın ne kadar güç olduğunu bildikleri için bu zahmetli işe teşebbüs etmektense, körler gibi rastgele dolaşmayı ve ancak çarpıştıkça birbirlerinin mevcudiyetinden haberdar olmayı tercih ediyor.

Power without guilt, love without doubt....

Göreceksiniz ya, ben dünyadan ziyade kafamın içinde yaşayan bir insanım... Hakiki hayatım benim için can sıkıcı bir rüyadan başka bir şey değildir...

Good Madonna, why mournest thou? Good Fool, for my brother's death. I think his soul is in hell, Madonna. I know his soul is in heaven, Fool. The more fool, Madonna, to mourn for your brother's soul being in heaven.

Do you not see the Madonna always beside the tabernacle?

Don’t just stand there let’s get to it. Strike a pose, there’s nothing to it.

Dünyanın en basit, en zavallı, hatta en ahmak adamı bile, insanı hayretten hayrete düşürecek ne müthiş ve karışık bir ruha maliktir. Niçin bunu anlamaktan bu kadar kaçıyor ve insan dedikleri mahluku anlaşılması ve hakkında hüküm verilmesi en kolay şeylerden biri zannediyoruz?

I always thought I should be treated like a star.

Her şeye hazır bulunan ve kimden ne gelebileceğini bilen bir insanı sarsmak mümkün müdür?

It's not easy having a good marriage--but I don't want easy. Easy doesn't make you grow. Easy doesn't make you think. I thank God everyday that I am married to a man who makes me think. That's my definition of true love.

Better to live one year as a tiger, then a hundred as sheep.

We learn our lessons; we get hurt; we want revenge. Then we realize that actually, happiness and forgiving people is the best revenge.

T.G.T.B.T: too good to be true.

Only love can last.

If Madonna loves me, then you will too.

I have nothing against Sean Penn. I don't even mind that he ended up divorcing Madonna. I mean, I still like Shia LaBeouf even though he chose to star in Transformers, which turned out to be a movie about robots from space. That Talk. Which is just as bad as choosing to divorce Madonna, if you ask me

Jesus was not revolutionary because he said we should love God and each other. Moses said that first. So did Buddha, Confucius, and countless other religious leaders we've never heard of. Madonna, Oprah, Dr. Phil, the Dali Lama, and probably a lot of Christian leaders will tell us that the point of religion is to get us to love each other. "God loves you" doesn't stir the world's opposition. However, start talking about God's absolute authority, holiness, ... Christ's substitutionary atonement, justification apart from works, the necessity of new birth, repentance, baptism, Communion, and the future judgment, and the mood in the room changes considerably.

If it's bitter at the start, then it's sweeter in the end.

Sam- I didn't know you had a last name I thought you were like Iman or Madonna or Beyonce. You just needed the one name. Dekka- Yeah sure, me and Beyonce

When a woman steps out of line and contravenes the feminine norm, whether on social media on on the Victorian street, there is a tacit understanding that somone must put her back in her place. Labelling the victims as 'just prostitutes' permits writing about Polly, Annie, Elizabeth, Kate and Mary Jane even today to continue to disparage, sexualize and dehumanize them; to continue to reinforce values of madonna/whore.

Bu akşam anladım ki, bir insan diğer bir insana bazen hayata bağlandığından çok daha kuvvetli bağlarla sarılabilirmiş. Gene bu akşam anladım ki, onu kaybettikten sonra, ben dünyada ancak kof bir ceviz tanesi gibi yuvarlanıp sürüklenebilirim.

Başkasına merhamet etmek, ondan daha kuvvetli olduğumuzu zannetmektir ki, ne kendimiz bu kadar büyük, ne de başkalarını bizden daha zavallı görmeye hakkımız yoktur.

Bir ana bir ömür kadar çok hayat doldurduğunu bilerek yaşamak...

By the power of Phil Collins, I rebuke you!” she said. “By the power of Phil Collins, who knows that you coming back to me is against all odds, in his name I command you to leave this servant of Genesis alone... By the power of The Thorn Birds - she cried - by the sacred strength of My Sweet Audrina and Forever... By the power of lost retainers and Jamaica and bad cornrows and fireflies and Madonna, by all these things I rebuke you

Bu eksik sana değil, bana ait. Bende inanmak noksanmış. Beni bu kadar çok sevdiğine bir türlü inanamadığım için, sana aşık olmadığımı zannediyormuşum. Bunu şimdi anlıyorum. Demek ki, insanlar benden inanmak kabiliyetini almışlar. Ama şimdi inanıyorum. Sen beni inandırdın. Seni seviyorum. Deli gibi değil, gayet aklı başında olarak seviyorum.

Family is everything. Family comes first. It's not what I expected it to be, but nothing ever is.

I wouldn't say that my emotions are extreme. I'd say they are committed. My moods are the equivalent of Madonna's dancing: inappropriate but all-out. If I'm going to be sad, I might as well be the saddest a girl can get. And if I'm happy, I want to be the happiest. The trouble is, I feel highs so ecstatic that just being normal feels like a thousand-mile drop and being unhappy is excruciating.

Beauty is where you find it.

Faith is a luxury for those who are able to ignore what the rest of us must see every day. Pessimism, distrust, and irony are the holy trinity of my religion, irony in particular.

You're unusual. That's better than popular if you have some courage.

If I'm smart then I'll run away, but I'm not so I guess I'll stay

.. Bundan sonra aradaki buzu çözmeye, bu insanların birbirlerine karşı duydukları müthiş yabancılığı gidermeye imkan yoktu. İnsanlar birbirlerini tanımanın ne kadar güç olduğunu bildikleri için bu zahmetli işe teşebbüs etmektense, körler gibi rastgele dolaşmayı ve ancak çarpıştıkça birbirlerinin mevcudiyetinden haberdar olmayı tercih ediyorlar.

Art was a union of the father and mother worlds, of mind and blood. It might start in utter sensuality and lead to total abstraction; then again it might originate in pure concept and end in bleeding flesh. Any work of art that was truly sublime, not just a good juggler's trick; that was filled with the eternal secret, like the master's madonna; every obviously genuine work of art had this dangerous, smiling double face, was male-female, a merging of instinct and pure spirituality.

Onun yaşadığı yerde yaşamak, onun gibi yaşamak değildi.

Dünyada bana hiçbir şey tabiattan melül bir insanın zorla gülmeye çalışması kadar acı gelmemiştir.

We all fall to the floor at some point. It's how you pick yourself up that's the real challenge. Isn't it?

We have never had a class on how to say no to men while simultaneously never saying no to them.

The time between your first major fight with your best friend until you make up is, for a teenage girl, about as long as it took for God to create the universe. . . . It's excellent training for having a boyfriend.

I am because we are. We all bleed the same color. We all want to love and be loved.

Zaten küçüklüğümden beri saadeti israf etmekten korkar, bir kısmını ilerisi için saklamak isterdim... Bu hal gerçi birçok fırsatları kaçırmama sebep olurdu, fakat fazlasını isteyerek talihimi korkutmaktan her zaman çekinirdim.

Just as it did in the nineteenth century, the notion that the victims were 'only prostitutes' seeks to perpetuate the belief that there are good women and bad women; madonnas and whores. It suggests that there is an acceptable standard of female behaviour and those that deviate from it are fit to be punished. Equally, it assists in reasserting the double standard , exonerating men from wrongs committed against such women. These attitudes may not feel as prevalent as they were in 1888, but they persist - not proffered in general conversation... but, rather integrated subtly into the fabric of our social norms.

I'm Tough, I'm Ambitious, and I Know exactly what I Want. If that makes me a B.I.T.C.H., okay.

Çocukluğumdan beri belki ilk defa olarak; hayatımın sebepsizliğini ve boşluğunu düşünerek içim ezilmeden , “Bugün de geçti işte…Ve bütün günlerim hep böyle geçecek sonra ne olacak sanki!” demeden uykuya daldım.

We all need to treat each other with human dignity and respect

i won't be happy until i'm famous like God

Cats and monkeys - monkeys and cats - all human life is there!

Its better to live a goat than 100 sheep.

It is, perhaps, easier to dismiss a man whose face gives no indication of an inner life. And what a pity that is: a dash of curiosity is all it takes to stumble upon treasures we never expected. That

She is leaving him, not all at once, which would be painful enough, but in a wrenching succession of separations. One moment she is here, and then she is gone again, and each journey takes her a little farther from his reach. He cannot follow her, and he wonders where she goes when she leaves.

When an actress takes off her clothes onscreen but a nursing mother is told to leave, what message do we send about the roles of women? In some ways we’re as committed to the old madonna-whore dichotomy as ever. And the Madonna stays home, feeding the baby behind the blinds, a vestige of those days when for a lady to venture out was a flagrant act of public exposure.

Dünyada sizden, yani bütün erkeklerden niçin bu kadar çok nefret ediyorum, biliyor musunuz? Sırf böyle en tabii haklarıymış gibi insandan birçok şeyler istedikleri için. Beni yanlış anlamayın, bu taleplerin muhakkak söz haline gelmesi şart değil. Erkeklerin öyle bir bakışları, öyle bir gülüşleri, ellerini kaldırışları, hulasa kadınlara öyle bir muamele edişleri var ki… Kendilerine ne kadar fazla ve ne kadar aptalca güvendiklerini fark etmemek için kör olmak lazım. Herhangi bir şekilde talepleri reddedildiği zaman düştükleri şaşkınlığı görmek, küstahça gururlarını anlamak için kafidir. Kendilerini daima bir avcı, bizi zavallı birer av olarak düşünmekten asla vazgeçmiyorlar. Bizim vazifemiz sadece tabi olmak, itaat etmek, istenilen şeyleri vermek. Biz isteyemeyiz, kendiliğimizden bir şey vermeyiz. Ben bu ahmakça ve küstahça erkek gururundan tiksiniyorum. Anlıyor musunuz?

The Indians are the Italians of Asia", Didier pronounced with a sage and mischievous grin. "It can be said, certainly, with equal justice, that the Italians are the Indians of Europe, but you do understand me, I think. There is so much Italian in the Indians, and so much Indians in the Italians. They are both people of the Madonna - they demand a goddess, even if the religion does not provide one. Every man in both countries is a singer when he is happy, and every woman is a dancer when she walks to the shop at the corner. For them, food is music inside the body, and music is food inside the heart. The Language of India and the language of Italy, they make every man a poet, and make something beautiful from every banalite. They are nations where love - amore, pyaar - makes a cavalier of a Borsalino on a street corner, and makes a princess of a peasant girl, if only for the second that her eyes meet yours.

İçinde hakikaten sevmek kabiliyeti olan bir insan hiçbir zaman bu sevgiyi bir kişiye inhisar ettiremez ve kimseden de böyle yapmasını bekleyemez. Ne kadar çok insanı seversek, , asıl sevdiğimiz bir tek kişiyi de o kadar çok ve kuvvetli severiz. Aşk dağıldıkça azalan bir şey değildir

The pain of losing something precious - be it happiness or material wealth – can be forgotten over time. But our missed opportunities never leave us, and every time they come back to haunt us, we ache. Or perhaps what haunts us is that nagging thought that things might have turned out differently. Because without that thought, we would put it down to fate and accept it.

Maria, lonely prostitute on a street of pain, You, at least, hail me and speak to me While a thousand others ignore my face. You offer me an hour of love, And your fees are not as costly as most. You are the madonna of the lonely, The first-born daughter in a world of pain. You do not turn fat men aside, Or trample on the stuttering, shy ones, You are the meadow where desperate men Can find a moment's comfort. Men have paid more to their wives To know a bit of peace And could not walk away without the guilt That masquerades as love. You do not bind them, lovely Maria, you comfort them And bid them return. Your body is more Christian than the Bishop's Whose gloved hand cannot feel the dropping of my blood. Your passion is as genuine as most, Your caring as real! But you, Maria, sacred whore on the endless pavement of pain, You, whose virginity each man may make his own Without paying ought but your fee, You who know nothing of virgin births and immaculate conceptions, You who touch man's flesh and caress a stranger, Who warm his bed to bring his aching skin alive, You make more sense than stock markets and football games Where sad men beg for virility. You offer yourself for a fee--and who offers himself for less? At times you are cruel and demanding--harsh and insensitive, At times you are shrewd and deceptive--grasping and hollow. The wonder is that at times you are gentle and concerned, Warm and loving. You deserve more respect than nuns who hide their sex for eternal love; Your fees are not so high, nor your prejudice so virtuous. You deserve more laurels than the self-pitying mother of many children, And your fee is not as costly as most. Man comes to you when his bed is filled with brass and emptiness, When liquor has dulled his sense enough To know his need of you. He will come in fantasy and despair, Maria, And leave without apologies. He will come in loneliness--and perhaps Leave in loneliness as well. But you give him more than soldiers who win medals and pensions, More than priests who offer absolution And sweet-smelling ritual, More than friends who anticipate his death Or challenge his life, And your fee is not as costly as most. You admit that your love is for a fee, Few women can be as honest. There are monuments to statesmen who gave nothing to anyone Except their hungry ego, Monuments to mothers who turned their children Into starving, anxious bodies, Monuments to Lady Liberty who makes poor men prisoners. I would erect a monument for you-- who give more than most-- And for a meager fee. Among the lonely, you are perhaps the loneliest of all, You come so close to love But it eludes you While proper women march to church and fantasize In the silence of their rooms, While lonely women take their husbands' arms To hold them on life's surface, While chattering women fill their closets with clothes and Their lips with lies, You offer love for a fee--which is not as costly as most-- And remain a lonely prostitute on a street of pain. You are not immoral, little Maria, only tired and afraid, But you are not as hollow as the police who pursue you, The politicians who jail you, the pharisees who scorn you. You give what you promise--take your paltry fee--and Wander on the endless, aching pavements of pain. You know more of universal love than the nations who thrive on war, More than the churches whose dogmas are private vendettas made sacred, More than the tall buildings and sprawling factories Where men wear chains. You are a lonely prostitute who speaks to me as I pass, And I smile at you because I am a lonely man.

You gave me back the paradise That I thought I lost for good You helped me find the reasons why It took me by surprise that you understood You knew all along What I never wanted to say Until I learned to love myself I was never ever lovin' anybody else.

I can't bear it that some man, even with a lofty heart and the highest mind, should start from the ideal of the Madonna and end with the ideal of Sodom. It's even more fearful when someone who already has the ideal of Sodom in his soul does not deny the ideal of the Madonna either, and his hear burns with it, verily, verily burns, as in his young, blameless years. No, man is broad, even too broad, I would narrow him down. Devil knows even what to make of him, that's the thing! What's shame for the mind is beauty all over for the heart. Can there be beauty in Sodom? Believe me, for the vast majority of people, that's just where beauty lies--did you know that secret? The terrible thing is that beauty is not only fearful but also mysterious. Here the devil is struggling with God, and the battlefield is the human heart. But, anyway, why kick against the pricks?

Bu söylediğiniz bir an meselesidir." dedim. "İçinizde mevcut olan sevgi, alaka, sarih olarak bilinmeyen bazı vesilelerle, zamanı tayin edilemeyecek olan bir anda, birdenbire birikir, yoğunlaşır; nasıl tatlı tatlı ısıtan güneş ışığı bir zaman sonra bir noktada toplanıyor ve yakmaya başlıyorsa, kuvvetini fevkalade arttıran bu sevgi de sizi sarar ve tutuşturur. Onu dışarıdan birdenbire gelen bir şey zannetmek doğru değildir. O, içimizde zaten mevcut olan hislerin bizi şaşırtacak kadar şiddetlenivermesinden ibarettir.

maria puder son birkaç dakika zarfında biraz sükunetini kaybetmişe benziyordu. bunu tespit edince memnun oldum: onun hiç sarsılmadan gittiğini görmek, beni herhalde pek üzecekti. mütemadiyen elimi tutup bırakıyor: "ne manasız şey?.. ne diye gidiyorsun sanki?" diye söyleniyordu. "asıl sen gidiyorsun , ben daha burdayım!" dedim. bu sözümü fark etmemiş göründü. kolumdan tuttu. "raif... şimdi ben gidiyorum!" dedi. "evet... biliyorum!" trenin hareket saati gelmişti. bir memur vagon kapısını örtüyordu. maria puder merdiven basamağına atladı, sonra bana eğilerek, yavaş bir sesle, fakat tane tane: "şimdi ben gidiyorum. fakat ne zaman çağırsan gelirim..." dedi. evvela ne demek istediğini anlamadım. o da bir an durdu ve ilave etti: "nereye çağırsan gelirim!

All we Karamazovs are such insects. And angel as you are, that insect lives in you, too, and will stir up a tempest in your blood. Tempests, because sensual lust is a tempest - worse than a tempest! Beauty is a terrible and awful thing! It is terrible because it has not been fathomed and never can be fathomed, for God sets before us nothing but riddles. Here the boundaries meet and all contradictions exist side by side. I am not an educated nor cultured man, Alyosha, but I've thought a lot about this. It's terrible what mysteries there are! Too many riddles weigh men down on earth. We must solve as we can, and try to keep a dry skin in the water. Beauty! I can't bear the thought that a man of lofty mind and heart begins with the ideal of the Madonna and ends with the ideal of Sodom. What's still more awful is that a man with the ideal of Sodom in his soul does not renounce the ideal of the Madonna, and his heart may be on fire with that ideal, genuinely on fire, just as in his days of youth and innocence. Yes, man is broad, too broad. I'd have him narrower. The devil only knows what to make of it! What to the mind is shameful is beauty and nothing else to the heart. Is there beauty in Sodom? Believe me, that for the immense mass of mankind beauty is found in Sodom. Did you know that secret? The awful thing is that beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and the devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man.

bir akşam eve dönerken mahallenin bakkalına uğramış, öteberi almıştım. tam kapıdan çıkacağım sırada, karşı evin bir odasında kira ile oturan bekarın radyosu weber’in oberon operası uvertürünü çalmaya başladı. az daha elimdeki paketleri yere düşürecektim. maria ile beraber gittiğimiz birkaç operadan biri de buydu ve onun weber’e hususi bir muhabbeti olduğunu biliyordum; yolda hep onun uvertürünü ıslıkla çalardı. kendisinden daha dün ayrılmış gibi taze bir hasret duydum. kaybedilen en kıymetli eşyanın, servetin, her türlü dünya saadetinin acısı zamanla unutuluyor. yalnız kaçırılan fırsatlar asla akıldan çıkmıyor ve her hatırlayışta insanın içini sızlatıyor. bunun sebebi herhalde “bu öyle olmayabilirdi!” düşüncesi yoksa insan mukadder telakki ettiği şeyleri kabule her zaman hazır.

Berlin'de yalnızsınız değil mi?" dedi. "Ne gibi? " "Yani... Yalnız işte... Kimsesiz... Ruhen yalnız... Nasıl söyleyeyim... Öyle bir haliniz var ki..." "Anlıyorum, anlıyorum... Tamamen yalnızım... Ama Berlin'de değil... Bütün dünyada yalnızım... Küçükten beri..." "Ben de yalnızım..." dedi. Bu sefer benim ellerimi kendi avuçlarının içine alarak: "Boğulacak kadar yalnızım..." diye devam etti, "hasta bir köpek kadar yalnız..." ... Şuna dikkat edin ki, benden herhangi bir şey istediğiniz gün her şey bitmiş demektir. Hiçbir şey anlıyor musunuz, hiçbir şey istemeyeceksiniz… Dünyada sizden, yani bütün erkeklerden niçin bu kadar çok nefret ediyorum biliyor musunuz? Sırf böyle en tabii haklarıymış gibi insandan birçok şeyler istedikleri için… Beni yanlış anlamayın, bu taleplerin muhakkak söz haline gelmesi şart değil… Erkeklerin öyle bir bakışları, öyle bir gülüşleri, ellerini kaldırışları, hulasa kadınlara öyle bir muamele edişleri var ki… Kendilerine ne kadar fazla ve ne kadar aptalca güvendiklerini fark etmemek için kör olmak lazım. Herhangi bir şekilde talepleri reddedildiği zaman düştükleri şaşkınlığı görmek, küstahça gururlarını anlamak için kafidir. Kendilerini daim bir avcı, bizi zavallı birer av olarak düşünmekten asla vazgeçmiyorlar. Bizim vazifemiz sadece tabi olmak, itaat etmek, istenilen şeyleri vermek… Biz isteyemeyiz, kendiliğimizden bir şey veremeyiz… Ben bu ahmakça ve küstahça erkek gururundan tiksiniyorum. Anlıyor musunuz? Sizinle bunun için dost olabileceğimizi zannediyorum. Çünkü halinizde o manasız kendine güvenme yok… Fakat bilmem… Ne kuzuların ağzından vahşi kurt dişlerinin sırıttığını gördüm… ... Ben dünyadan ziyade kafamın içinde yaşayan bir insanım… Hakiki hayatım benim için can sıkıcı bir rüyadan başka bir şey değildir…

There is a theory that when a planet, like our earth for example, has manifested every form of life, when it has fulfilled itself to the point of exhaustion, it crumbles to bits and is dispersed like star dust throughout the universe. It does not roll on like a dead moon, but explodes, and in the space of a few minutes, there is not a trace of it visible in the heavens. In marine life we have a similar effect. it is called implosion. When an amphibian accustomed to the black depths rises above a certain level, when the pressure to which it adapts itself is lifted, the body bursts inwardly. Are we not familiar with this spectacle in the human being also? The norsemen who went berserk, the malay who runs amuck—are these not examples of implosion and explosion? When the cup is full it runs over. but when the cup and that which it contains are one substance, what then? There are moments when the elixir of life rises to such overbrimming splendor that the soul spills over. In the seraphic smile of the madonnas the soul is seen to flood the psyche. The moon of the face becomes full; the equation is perfect. A minute, a half minute, a second later, the miracle has passed. something intangible, something inexplicable, was given out—and received. In the life of a human being it may happen that the moon never comes to the full. In the life of some human beings it would seem, indeed, that the only mysterious phenomenon observable is that of perpetual eclipse. In the case of those afflicted with genius, whatever the form it may take, we are almost frightened to observe that there is nothing but a continuous waxing and waning of the moon. Rarer still are the anomalous ones who, having come to the full, are so terrified by the wonder of it that they spend the rest of their lives endeavoring to stifle that which gave them birth and being. The war of the mind is the story of the soul-split. When the moon was at full there were those who could not accept the dim death of diminution; they tried to hang full-blown in the zenith of their own heaven. They tried to arrest the action of the law which was manifesting itself through them, through their own birth and death, in fulfillment and transfiguration. Caught between the tides they were sundered; the soul departed the body, leaving the simulacrum of a divided self to fight it out in the mind. Blasted by their own radiance they live forever the futile quest of beauty, truth and harmony. Depossessed of their own effulgence they seek to possess the soul and spirit of those to whom they are attracted. They catch every beam of light; they reflect with every facet of their hungry being. instantly illumined, When the light is directed towards them, they are also speedily extinguished. The more intense the light which is cast upon them the more dazzling—and blinding—they appear. Especially dangerous are they to the radiant ones; it is always towards these bright and inexhaustible luminaries that they are most passionately drawn…