Mami Quotes

We stood there for a moment, stunned. The crosswalk light turned green, and Georgia hooked her arm through mine as we stepped out into the street. "Weird night," she said finally, breaking our silence. "Understatement of the year," I replied. "Should we tell Mamie and Papy about it?" "What?" Georgia laughed. "And spoil Papy's 'Paris is safe' delusion? They'd never let us out of the house again.

There is an artist my mother loved, Juan Gabriel, who was once asked in an interview if he was gay. His reply: What's understood need not be said. I remember how Mami's eyes fluttered to me like a bee on a flower acknowledging the pollen is sweet.

Mami wanted me to be a lady: sit up straight, cross my ankles, let men protect me. Papi wanted me to be a leader. To think quick & strike hard, to speak rarely, but when I did, to always be heard. Me? Playing chess taught me a queen is both: deadly & graceful, poised & ruthless. Quiet & cunning. A queen offers her hand to be kissed, & can form it into a fist while smiling the whole damn time. But what happens when those principles only apply in a game? & in the real world, I am not treated as a lady or a queen, as a defender or opponent but as a girl so many want to strike off the board.

I don't have a love life. I have a like life.' Mamie smiled. She thought how nice that might be, to be peacefully free from love...

East Side, West Side, all around the town, The tots sang "Ring-a-rosie, London Bridge is falling Down; Boys and Girls together, me and Mamie O'Rorke, Tripped the light fantastic on the sidewalks of New York.

Yoh: What...a cold? Asaoka: Yep. Mami: I just got her message. Fumi: And just when we're all better too!! Yoh: Sorry, I have to go... Asaoka: To take care of Haruna-chan? Fumi: Ohhh!! You're so nice!! Yoh: Got a problem with that!? Asami: Ooh. Fumi: He admitted it.

Lately, Mami’s eyes have been so dark, I don’t like looking into them because I’m afraid I’ll fall in.

Duša se ne liječi na jednom od tisuću malih prozorčića. Dušu pustiš da toća nogu u moru. Dušu pustiš mami na čuvanje.

Mami still had an air around Papi, like he was a medicine she knew she needed even as she cringed at the taste.

Mamá Elena opinaba que la palabra mamá sonaba despectiva, así que obligó a sus hijas desde niñas a utilizar la palabra «mami» cuando se dirigieran a ella.

Ja nie mam nic, ty nie masz nic, on nie ma nic - zaśmiał się głośno. - To razem właśnie mamy tyle, w sam raz tyle, żeby założyć wielką fabrykę. Cóż stracimy? Zarobić zawsze można

Mami must have caught me studying her because she stopped what she was doing and gave me a smile, maybe her first one of the night. Suddenly I wanted to go over and hug her, for no other reason than I loved her.

(...)nasz naród do życia nie potrzebuje na przykład autostrad i dlatego prawie ich nie mamy.Nasz naród do życia potrzebuje nieszczęścia.Dopiero kiedy pojawi się nieszczęście - nieudane powstanie warszawskie, czy inna klęska - jesteśmy kimś.

Those last months. No way of wrapping it pretty or pretending otherwise: Rafa was dying. By then it was only me and Mami taking care of him and we didn't know what the fuck to do, what the fuck to say. So we just said nothing. My mom wasn't the effusive type anyway, had one of those event-horizon personalities-shit just fell into her and you never really knew how she felt about it. She just seemed to take it, never gave anything off, not light, not heat.

Julian won’t hurt you.” I rear back. “How do you know?” “The answer is obvious every time I catch him staring at you.” My heart misses a beat. “What do you mean?” “That man would rather hurt himself before putting you in true harm’s way.” I lock my knees together to stop myself from toppling over. “Mami.” “It’s been that way since you were kids.

The first time Dre touched me without our clothes on, she kept running her hand from waist to hip. & I wanted to write Mami a thank-you text, for giving my body a spot that was made to nest Dre's hand.

Uno de estos días, te enamorarás, hijo. No te conformes con cualquier persona. Elige a la chica que no sea fácil, una por la que tengas que luchar, y después nunca dejes de pelear. Nunca... —Toma un suspiro profundo—, dejes de luchar por lo que quieres. Y nunca... —Frunció el ceño—, olvides que mami te ama. Incluso si no puedes verme. —Una lágrima cayó por su mejilla—. Siempre, siempre te amaré.

As Mami & I sit in the front row, people come up to us to pay their respects. such a funny phrase, pay respects. As if suffering is a debt that can be eased by a hug & a head nod. I have no need for this currency of people's respects.

I fall in love with Paraíso. It’s like a giant playground where I’m never scolded for running around recklessly, where I’m almost overwhelmed with the amount of attention and love I receive from Mami’s family. In New York, I’m invisible.

God told me, “I have taken one from you, but I will give you thousands.

These are the bodies we were born into. The bodies given to us by our mamis and our abuelas. What is so wrong with these bodies?

Many of them look Luca and Mami right in the eye, and say, “God bless you,” and they smile. Luca would like to smile back, but he feels peculiar, too. He is unaccustomed to pity.

Mami told me not to tell her when my friends hurt me, because I would forgive them eventually, and she never would.

Una puntuación perfecta de 100 puntos. Papi y mami son super divertidos todos, los quiero mucho a los dos ¡Quiero estar con ellos para siempre!

This year, Mami has filled out the forms, signed me up, and marched me to church before I can tell her that Jesus feels like a friend I’ve had my whole childhood who has suddenly become brand-new; who invites himself over too often, who texts me too much. A friend I just don’t think I need anymore. (I know, I know . . . even writing that is blasphemous.) But I don’t know how to tell Mami that this year, it’s not about feeling unready, it’s about knowing that this doubt has already been confirmed.

With each day, I give thanks for the blessings of life—the blessings of another day and the chance to do something with it. Something good. Something significant. Something helpful. No matter how small it might seem. I want to keep making a difference.

Odjebi, JNA... Dao sam ti jednu dobru godinu života... Najbolju, možda? Veliki Vračevi Medicine rascepe grudi kao narandžu i spuste novo srce u njih (pažljivo, zatvorenih šaka, kao da vraćaju vrapčića u gnezdo), razdvoje skalpelom svetlo od tame u mutnom jezgru zenice, bajaju, pokretnu nepokretno, čudotvore na ljudima, pa opet, ni oni ne mogu da mi vrate moju otrgnutu devetnaestu.... Nikad više... Ali... Proklet da sam... Ja sam bar imao dvadesetu. Dvadeset prvu. I još neke dvadeset-tridesete... Za razliku od dečaka na čije crno uokvirene fotografije svakodnevno nailazim na predzadnjim stranicama štampe... Oni ostadoše negde u devetnaestoj... Zaljubljeni... Zaigrani... Zbunjeni... Ne dospevši da svoje olovne vojnike razdvoje od olovnih zrna, koje su im Zli Starci tako bezbožnički podmetnuli u džepove... Ne, Brate Kaine, ne zovi me u polje... Ne mami me, zalud, da prošetamo minskim poljem, moj grešni sivomaslinasti brate... Poturi nekog drugog Dobrovoljca na branike svoje nesposobnosti... Okači drugu metu na svoje kartonske bedeme... Nema Mojih u ovom Ratu Naših... Ma znam... Ne može to tek tako... Čičak Izdaje se kači na sve strane. I meni će ga već neki mangup prilepiti na leđa, onako u prolazu, tapšući me po ramenu, tobož prijateljski... Razmišljao sam o tome... Koga izdati kad mi ostane da biram između nas dvoje? I, žalim... Ali prestar sam da bih izdao sebe, još jednom... Zato odjebi, JNA... Dosta je bilo...

She looks like an empty shell of a woman with her soul hovering above her. We believe in spiritual guías in Santo Domingo. Hers is her own self. I can see Mami’s soul desperately trying to find its way back into her small body.

It is possible that blondes also prefer gentlemen.

Human laws pattern divine laws, but divine laws use only originals.

It’s one of the few things Twin and I argue about, how he never has to do half the cleaning shit I do but is still better liked by Mami.

Mami was born en La Capital, in a barrio of thirst buckets/who wrote odes to her legs,/but the only man Mami wanted/was nailed to a cross.

Mami never went to college, but she majored in drama, anyway, with a minor in extra. She also majored in doing the opposite of what’s best for me.

Mami might have been skinny, a bad thing on the Island, but she was smart and funny and that's hard to find anywhere.

I do not know how to say in Spanish: I am a graceful loser. Many times. Many things. I've made mistakes that lost the match. Who were Mami & I playing against? Did God win? Did Papi lose? I know we did.

Mamie told me living rooms were once known as death rooms, back when funerals were a home matter. After mortuaries came into fashion, there was no need for keeping bodies on ice at home, and the death room was rechristened the living room.

Nekako sam starmala, opterećena brigama koje ne mogu ni pojmiti. Pa sumnjam u sve i svašta, stalno se preispitujem i svaki mi se problem čini nerješivim. Osim ako ga povjerim mami. Bude li i njoj pretežak, prenijet će ga tati, a onda će sve biti u redu.

Madoka: Won't anyone notice that Mami-san is dead? Homura: Mami Tomoe's only relatives are distant relations. It will be quite some time before anyone files a missing persons report. When one dies on that side of the wards, not even a body is left behind. She'll wind up forever a "missing person"... That is what happens to magical girls in the end. Madoka: ...That's too cruel! Mami-san has been fighting all alone for a long time for everyone's sake! For no one to even notice that she's gone... That's just too lonely a fate... Homura: It is just that kind of contract that gives us the power in the first place. It isn't for anyone else's sake. We fight on for the sake of our own prayer. So for no one to notice... for the world to forget us... That is just something we have to accept.

My pulse sped up as I opened our front door and stood in the hallway waiting for him. He was up the three flights of stairs in no time, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bag in the other. “These are for your Mamie,” he said, leaning over to give me a quick, soft kiss on the lips. The pounding of my heart went into overdrive. Vincent lifted his eyebrows suggestively. “Are you going to ask me in, or were you testing to see if I could cross your threshold without the invitation?” Then he whispered , “I’m a revenant , not a vampire, chérie.

We are only given a certain amount of time to do what we were sent here to do. You don’t have to be around a long time to share the wisdom of a lifetime. You just have to use your time wisely, efficiently. There is no time to waste.

«Sì, sono ebrea», dichiara. «ma sono anche cattolica.» Dopo una breve pausa aggiunge: «E anche musulmana». «Mamie, cosa vuoi dire?» domando, tentando di impedire alla mia voce di tremare. «Non sei musulmana.» «Non è la stessa cosa? È l'umanità a creare le differenze. Ma questo non significa che non sia sempre lo stesso Dio.»

Not mamy of our old families can boast that a Savile Row tailor calls four times a year at their country estates to measure the scarecrows in the fields for new suits.

I have left something of myself in all the children I have touched.

Move back,” President Clinton said. “Let this mother through. Don’t you know who this is?

Mami looked vaguely out of the snout of her parka

Ako te to toliko mami, a ti pokušaj da odeš tamo. Ali upamti; ja sam moćan. A ja sam samo posljednji po činu.

I kad budes pisao svojoj mami i svojoj djevojci pisma ili e-mail ili koji vec kurac saljes ... Je l’ imas djevojku, uopce?” “Ne, gospodine, nemam.” “Naravno da nemas, kad si picka!...

So we’re leaving today, Papi. We are already gone. And you must be very careful and look after yourself, please. We are taking you with us in our hearts, and we will call you when we get to el norte, Papi. And we’ll send for you when we have jobs, and you can come to us, and you can bring Mami and Abuela, too, and we will all be together again as it is meant to be.

Treba se cuvati sanjarije koja se namece. Sanjarija nosi u sebi tajanstvenost i opojnost mirisa.Ona je katkada kao otrovna ideja koja se siri i prodire kao dim. Covek moze da otruje snovima isto onako kao i sa cvecem. Opojno divno i kobno samoubistvo. Rdjave misli su samoubistvo duse.U tome se i sastoji trovanje. Masta privlaci, pridobija lepim,mami,veze,a potom postajete njen saucesnik. Ona vas uortaci da zajednicki obmanjujete svest. Opcini vas,a potom vas pokvari. O mastanju se moze reci ono isto sto i o igri. Najpre bivas prevaren,a zatim i sam postajes varalica.

-Messer – odparł Azazello – spieszę donieść, że mamy dwoje obcych: jakąś piękną dziewczynę, która zanudza błaganiami, żeby ją pozostawiono przy jej pani, a wraz z nią, przepraszam za wyrażenie, przybył jej wieprz.

[My grandmother Mamie] used to say, 'Marion, if you don't feel right, if you don't feel good, just go outside. Take care of your flower bed and forget about everything else. If it's wintertime, go dig yourself a path in the snow whether you need it or not. You don't have to think too much to plant anything or scoop snow, and your mind can go back and figure out what's wrong.' I still take her advice to this day. (From Marion "Strong Medicine" Gould)

When Africans were kidnapped, trafficked en masse and brutally dragged in chains to work camps in the “New World,” called plantations, we hid our deities and rituals in stories of saints, angels, and legendary characters. Our deities included a powerful cadre of orishas, abosom, lwas, álúsí, spirits, and god/desses. From South Africa to Sudan, Brazil to Cuba to even Indigenous Australia, we chant their names: Yemaya, Mami Wata, Atete, Iset, and Ala.

Dr. Forrester got lost in the snow and staggered into the hall and collapsed on the floor. If the door had been locked he would probably have died. So ever since then Uncle Jock and Aunt Mamie have never allowed the door to be locked.

It is not that I dwell on the past. But the past shapes the way we are in the present and the way we will become what we are destined to become. It is only because I have finally understood the past, accepted it, embraced it, that I can fully live in the moment. And hardly a moment goes by when I don’t think about Emmett, and the lessons a son can teach a mother.

For the most part, Mamie’s neighbours were Rwandans who had left their country to escape carnage, massacres, wars, pogroms, purges, destruction, fires, tsetse flies, pillaging, apartheid, rapes, murders, settling of scores and I don’t know what else.

But Little Grandmother did not keep in touch with her namesake, my mother, Margaret Morris. News about Will Morris's younger daughter reached the "white" side through Mamie. They knew where she was, what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. Most important, they knew she had chosen to stay negro. It is still a matter of speculation as to why my mother's father or one of her much older brothers or her sister did not keep in touch with her and her younger brother. Over the years, Aunt Mamie and my mother's various guardians supplied different explanations. The times were hard. They were bad for mulattoes and worse for "real" Negroes. There was little money around. Her father drank, drifted and could not keep jobs. Her teenage siblings could barely keep jobs ...... She was too dark, revealing both the Negro and swarthy Italian strains of her ancestry. Her color would give them away in their new white settings. All of these reasons were plausible. None of them sufficed. None could take away the pain, the anger, the isolation, the questions.

Mami said nothing for a while, and then she went into her bedroom. I figured she was going to emerge with my father’s Saturday-night special, the one thing of his that she’d kept when he left. To protect us, she claimed, but more likely to shoot my father dead if she ever saw him again.

I've been in a lot of fights. On the ice. And once off it. But all of them were against guys who could hold their own. This scar"----he pointed to a faint line under his left brow----"was from a left hook I didn't see coming. I returned the favor and broke the guy's nose. I'm telling you this because I won't lie and say I'm a stranger to violence." He didn't blink, didn't hesitate to meet my eyes. "But you? You could slap me, punch me, kick me in the nuts, call me names, disparage Mamie, whom I love more than anyone on Earth, and I still wouldn't ever raise a hand to you. Because I don't hit women or anyone weaker than me. Ever." He stopped there, his concerned gaze darting over my face. "I apologize that my behavior made you feel unsafe. It wasn't my intention. If you believe anything about me, believe I will always be the guy who stands with you, never against you.

Umysł człowieka i słonia kształtował się, gdy poruszaliśmy się po takim samym krajobrazie, radząc sobie z tymi samymi wyzwaniami, mierząc długość dni w oparciu o wysokość tego samego słońca, a nocami nasłuchując odgłosów tych samych niebezpieczeństw. Jesteśmy zsynchronizowani, bo zasadniczo mamy podobne pochodzenie.

That is, after all, how it works. We don’t come here with hatred in our hearts. We have to be taught to feel that way. We have to want to be that way, to please the people who teach us to want to be like them. Strange, to think that people might learn to hate as a way of getting some approval, some acceptance, some love. I thought about all that

In my criminal work anything that wears skirts is a lady, until the law proves her otherwise. From the frayed and slovenly petticoats of the woman who owns a poultry stand in the market and who has grown wealthy by selling chickens at twelve ounces to the pound, or the silk sweep of Mamie Tracy, whose diamonds have been stolen down on the avenue...

Success consists of a series of little daily efforts.

—Bohater… Ach, jacy my wszyscy jesteśmy bohaterscy… Rączki mamy czyste, złote serca, nasze nogi po gównach nie chodzą…

Înainte de a combate moartea, trebuie să înveți să trăiești.

Tak, dobra zła opinia to jedyne, co mamy. Zdrowi psychicznie wolą nas unikać.

Wszystko zgodnie z sugestiami mojej mamy. W następnym tygodniu zaczynam zapisywać rozmaite szczegóły. [...] Najlepsi ludzie piją whiskey, mówi.

To Mami and Nono, purity never came into healing, because purity didn’t exist. A person would always be visited by pain and grief. A person was an accretion, constantly growing in strangeness, becoming an accumulation. Healing was found in stretching toward abundance. It was not about leaving the past behind, dividing the self into good and bad, but about opening a path through ruins.

Hey, ≤i≥ mami,” ≤/i≥ Hector called out, his grin spreading as he bit down on his lower lip. ≤i≥ “Que cuerpo tan brutal.”≤/i≥ I had no idea what he’d just said, but it seemed to be directed at me. “Shut up,” Rider replied, planting his large hand in Hector’s face and shoving him back into the driver’s side of the car. ≤i≥ “No la mires.” ≤/i≥ *** “Wait,” I said, surprising the crap out of myself as she faced me, eyes wide. My cheeks heated. “What...does no la mires mean?” I’d totally butchered the words like a typical white girl who couldn’t speak any form of Spanish would. Her brows shot up again. “Why are you asking that?” I raised my shoulders. “Did someone say that to you?” When I didn’t answer, because I was no longer sure I wanted to know what it meant, she sighed. “It basically translates to don’t look at her.”

În vis se făcu întuneric până când Godrick se trezi într-o încăpere uriaşă construită numai din aceste suprafeţe îngheţate. Tavanul era atât de sus încât părea invizibil pentru el, iar el făcând mai mulţi paşi prin încăpere realiză că aceasta nu avea uşi şi că trecând dintr-o încăpere în alta, interminabile, ajunsese la concluzia că acesta trebuie să fie un castel uriaş de gheaţă. I se făcu dor de căldura unui şemineu, de îmbrăţişarea lui Mami şi de chipul tatălui său. Iar pe măsură ce mângâia oglinzile de gheaţă simţi căldura unui foc, apoi văzu şemineul plin de lemne şi flăcările roşii care jucau în toate direcţiile. Încălzindu-şi mâinile la foc se afla tatăl lui care privea fix şi îngândurat în oglinda lui de gheaţă. Poate că era chiar trist. Godrick atinse oglinda şi astfel parcă reuşise să atingă creştetul tatălui care tresări, dar cum nu-l vedea căzu iar pe gânduri. Lângă bătrân stătea Mami, cosând la o cămaşă veche, îngălbenită. Din privirea plecată îi cobora o lacrimă. Godrick atinse din nou oglinda şi atinse obrazul lui Mami ocolo unde aluneca lăcrima şi simţi udătura lăsată pe degetele lui. Inima lui Godrick se întristă că acesta era doar un vis şi depărtând braţele îmbrăţişă oglinda care conţinea imaginea aceia caldă de acasă.

You have so mamy different personas. The one i meet in Dublin, the one who speaks on the phone.  There are a few other bonos: the one who writes in the morning, the one who performs in front of crowds, the one who addresses U.S congressmen, and of course the one who now sits on the board of elevation partners.  Of course the same person shelters all those different roles. All art is an attempt to identify yourself. You try out many different characters on the way to finding the one that most fits you, and therefore is you. I mean, all children do. I'm adolescence, you see them trying out different sides of their personality. So I'm just exploring and trying to find out what I'm capable of.

Astfel, omul rămâne, în același timp, un redutabil animal de pradă și un ucenic vrăjitor genial, dar... foarte infantil. Și totuși, în el trebuie să sperăm atâta timp cât putem să sperăm, și el trebuie să ceară încrederea semenilor săi.

There was a time when we dreamed of returning there to live, Mami, Carlito, and me. We idealized Cartagena all year long as Mami saved up for our summer trips, but when we got there, it was never the way we wanted it to be - too hot, too rainy, too full of pueblo chisme, too grim, too hopeless. Still, during our prison visits, Carlito liked to conjure stories from the Cartagena of our nostalgia and made me swear that if he never got the chance to go back, I'd go for him.

Ciało mamy zwierzęce, lecz aspiracje boskie. Hormony przekroczyły bariery postawione im przez biologię, przez prawa świata zwierząt. Hormony nasze produkują enzymy głodów nie do zaspokojenia, marzeń nie do zrealizowania, tęsknot nie do zagłuszenia. I ja w samym gąszczu, z wielką pustą głową, ze wzdętym sercem bez krwi, z rozrzedzoną duszą antymaterii. Zmęczony sobą i swoim czasem. Zmęczony ograniczeniem, niemocą, niepojmowaniem. Ja - przeciętna statystyczna Wielkiego Rachunku.

This place, our little cloud forest, even though we missed our papi, it was the most beautiful place you've ever seen. We didn't really know that then, because it was the only place we'd ever seen, except in picture in books and magazines, but now that's I've seen other place, I know. I know how beautiful it was. And we loved it anyway even before we knew. Because the trees had these enormous dark green leaves, as a big as a bed, and they would sway in the wind. And when it rain you could hear the big, fat raindrops splatting onto those giant leaves, and you could only see the sky in bright blue patches if you were walking a long way off to a friend's house or to church or something, when you passed through a clearing and all those leaves would back away and open up and the hot sunshine would beat down all yellow and gold and sticky. And there were waterfalls everywhere with big rock pools where you could take a bath and the water was always warm and it smelled like sunlight. And at night there was the sound of the tree frogs and the music of the rushing water from the falls and all the songs of the night birds, and Mami would make the most delicious chilate, and Abuela would sing to us in the old language, and Soledad and I would gather herbs and dry them and bundle them for Papi to sell in the market when he had a day off, and that's how we passed our days.' Luca can see it. He's there, far away in the misty cloud forest, in a hut with a packed dirt floor and a cool breeze, with Rebeca and Soledad and their mami and abuela, and he can even see their father, far away down the mountain and through the streets of that clogged, enormous city, wearing a long apron and a chef's hat, and his pockets full of dried herbs. Luca can smell the wood of the fire, the cocoa and cinnamon of the chilate, and that's how he knows Rebeca is magical, because she can transport him a thousand miles away into her own mountain homestead just by the sound of her voice.

Religion is a belief or a curriculum. It can't hurt people or start wars. People hurt people, and people start wars. The real problem is the narcissist, for he can't control his anger and believes no one else is entitled to their own opinion or beliefs .

With a heart still burdened from a level of loss and grief I'd wish upon no one, Mami mustered the courage, with Eric on her hip, to set out for a foreign land. A nation where she didn't speak the language. A country that provided a haven from the poverty and violence and despair she was desperate to flee. Along the way, she fell down, got up, and then toppled to her knees again. But in the end, she always got up. She crawled back to her feet. She stood. And she deserved not my contempt but my deepest admiration.

Wszyscy mamy swoje granice. Granice intymności, godności, wytrzymałości. Albo świętego spokoju. I tych granic nie nikomu nie można przekraczać, ani dzieciom, ani dorosłym. A nawet w szczególności dorosłym... Bo oni wiedzą, że dzieci nie potrafią tych granic przed nimi bronić.

But that was still okay because this place, our little cloud forest, even though we missed our papi, it was the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen. We didn’t really know that then, because it was the only place we’d ever seen, except in pictures in books and magazines, but now that I’ve seen other places, I know. I know how beautiful it was. And we loved it anyway even before we knew. Because the trees had these enormous dark green leaves, as big as a bed, and they would sway in the wind. And when it rained you could hear the big, fat raindrops splatting onto those giant leaves, and you could only see the sky in bright blue patches if you were walking a long way off to a friend’s house or to church or something, when you passed through a clearing and all those leaves would back away and open up and the hot sunshine would beat down all yellow and gold and sticky. And there were waterfalls everywhere with big rock pools where you could take a bath and the water was always warm and it smelled like sunlight. And at night there was the sound of the tree frogs and the music of the rushing water from the falls and all the songs of the night birds, and Mami would make the most delicious chilate, and Abuela would sing to us in the old language

Venim de departe, fiecare dintre noi, pe drumuri atât de diverse încât le credem unice. Venim de departe, pentru a ajunge la prezent, pentru a îndrăzni să ne ocupăm locul, să ocupăm un spațiu de viață care nu se dezvăluie sub pașii noștri, pentru a putea lăsa poate, poate, o urmă infimă a trecerii noastre pe acest Pământ.

Mami had no choice but to tell Carlito and me the real story that same night. In a way, I always knew something like that had happened. It was the only way to explain why my older brother got such special treatment his whole life - everyone scared to demand that he go to school, that he study, that he have better manners, that he stop pushing me around. El Pobrecito is what everyone called him, and I always wondered why. I was two years younger and nobody, and I mean nadie, paid me any mind, which is why, when our mother told me the story of our father trying to kill his son like we were people out of the Bible, part of me wished our papi had thrown me off that bridge instead.

When we hang up, I sigh long and look out the window to the darkness over the ocean, no delineation between water and sky. It's always disorienting when I speak to my mother, that pull of her voice back into our old life even though both of us have tried to move beyond it. In her soft Caribbean accent I hear my brother's laughter, see us both as children playing together in the backyard when it was still covered in crunch green grass and our toys were new. Mami's voice was the song of our home, even with no father, even as we lived with that black mass of the unspoken, even with the marks on our bones we didn't know we carried. Through all life's uncertainty, we felt anchored by the love in her voice.

Wiele religii obecnie prezentuje przymilne uśmieszki i otwiera szeroko ramiona zupełnie jak nadskakujący kupiec na bazarze. Religie te oferują pocieszenie, solidarność, obiecują lepszy żywot, rywalizując ze sobą jak na targowisku. My jednak mamy prawo pamiętać, jak barbarzyńska bywała religia, kiedy dysponowała władzą i przedkładała ofertę, jakiej ludzie nie byli w stanie odrzucić.

De fapt, am descoperit și am știut foarte devreme că trebuie să te bați tot timpul. Pe toate fronturile vieții, pe toate mizele existenței, căci nimic nu este câștigat dinainte, nimic nu este dat, nimic nu e ușor. Așa e viața, săracii nu au niciodată dreptate, se spunea în familie. Nu trebuie să te lași păcălit, adăugau vecinii. Trebuie să arăți că ești bărbat, supralicitau prietenii mei.

Drumurile înțelepciunii sunt marcate de curajul de a fi și forța de a se putea confrunta cu amărăciunile neînțelegerii și uneori ale solitudinii. Cel care le întâlnește, care acceptă să le străbată, care se aventurează spre necunoscut, spre irațional, nu știe niciodată ce va descoperi la capăt, astfel încât va trebui să accepte să se iubească pentru a putea fi un bun tovarăș pentru el însuși.

Cały świat poszatkowany opłotkami i ograniczeniami szybkości, podzielony na strefy, obłożony podatkami i regulacjami prawnymi, a wszyscy zarejestrowani, pod kontrolą, znani z adresu i nagrań. I gdzie tu miejsce na przygodę, no chyba że taką, którą da się kupić? Na kolejce górskiej. W kinie. Przecież wiadomo, że dinozaury nie pożrą dzieci. Publiczność na pokazach próbnych wykluczyła możliwość wszelkich poważnych katastrof. A skoro szansa na realną katastrofę, realne ryzyko, nie istnieje, nie mamy też szansy na realne zbawianie. Realne porywy. Realne podniecenie. Na frajdę. Odkrycie. Innowację. Prawo, dzięki któremu jesteśmy bezpieczni, to samo prawo skazuje nas na nudę. Nie mając dostępu do prawdziwego chaosu, nigdy nie osiągniemy prawdziwego pokoju. Oby nie było gorzej, bo lepiej nie będzie.

Zapytałem dziadka, ile Bóg, jego zdaniem, ma lat. Przyszło mi to do głowy bo tydzień wcześniej byliśmy wszyscy na urodzinach pana Karmowskiego i trudno było mi sobie wyobrazić, że istnieje ktoś starszy niż on. Dziadek kazał mi trochę czekać na odpowiedź. - Bo ja wiem? Nigdy mi nie mówił. Może dlatego, że trochę się z niego naśmiewam. - Z Boga? (…) - Kiedyś wymyśliłem, że dam mu jakoś na imię. Jakoś zwyczajnie: Marek, Janusz albo Karol, rozumiesz? Zdecydowałem się na tego Karola. Kiwałem głową choć nie bardzo to rozumiałem. (…) Po chwili zdecydowałem się dopytać: - No i co? (..) - No i nic. Czasem coś mu powiem. Na przykład, jak mamy kosić a widać że nadciągają chmury, to patrzę w niebo i mówię: Karol, weź ty mnie nawet nie wkurwiaj - I to działa? - Nie. Gdyby zadziałało to bym się wystraszył.

Zašto je sve kod njih dovedeno do savršenstva? Zašto se toliko bore za lepotu? I nikad im nije dosta. A imaju sve, sve im je priroda dala. Ne bez razloga. Počnimo odozgo. Od kose. Boje, bujnost, kovrdže, valovitost. Okvir za lice. Pa oči, boje i odsjaji. Usta, glatko grlo. Vajarstvo prvog reda u ramenima i poprsju. Naručito u onim životodavnim poluloptama. Torzo van svih poređenja. Harmoničnost i simetrija. Pa ten, boja vena, miris kože. Pa bedra, linije noge. Sve arome, oblici i boje cveća, neba, reka, breza. Lepota zato što mami, podstiče, uzbuđuje, izluđuje. Inače, ne bi se održao svet. Ali zašto toj prirodnoj dodaju i veštačku? Zbog čega taj strah da nisu dovoljno privlačne, dovoljno poželjne? Svesno ili ne, nešto hoće da skriju. Nešto što nije lepo. Fizički ili duhovno. Ili oboje, jer prvo utiče na drugo. Razmisli.

Este curios, pe măsură ce timpul meu de viață pe viitor se îngustează, timpul meu prezent se accelerează și crește, și uneori, mă lasă în urma lui. Zilele mele de azi ar trebui să aibă șaptezeci și două de ore, însă sunt conștient că acest lucru nu m-ar ajuta să le trăiesc mai bine. Ceea ce știu este că mă gândesc din ce în ce mai puțin la viitor. Acesta a devenit mai puțin prezent și lasă mai mult spațiu zilei de azi.

With just about every script, in almost every corner of the set, I was faced with the truth: This was my parents' life. My mother had sat in handcuffs; my father had once worn an orange jumpsuit like the dozens that sat folded in our wardrobe department. For the other actors and me on our show, this was all fantasy, the re-creation of a world we knew little about; for Mami and Papi, it could not have been any more real or painful...I've had so many scenes in which Flaca & I are doing the dirty work, like cleaning the kitchen or mopping the floors, which is when I think of my parents most. Long before they ended up in prison, they'd spent years handling the nastiest jobs, the ones often avoided by others. Manual labor. Low pay. No respect. They must've felt so trapped. It must've been so hard for them to maintain their dignity when others looked down on them or, worse, didn't see them at all.

Każdy z nas ma takie dni kiedy opiera się o lodowatą ścianę, w ręce trzymając chłodną już herbatę. Zamykamy oczy i przypominamy sobie te najwspanialsze chwilę, które przeżyliśmy. Łzy wylewają się z naszych oczu, a tęsknota rozpieprza nas od środka. Za wszelką cenę pragniemy by to wszystko powróciło. By te wszystkie wspólnie przeżyte sekundy powróciły na nowo. A najgorsze w tym wszystkim jest to że w to wierzymy. Że mamy choćby najmniejszą iskierkę nadziei ze to kiedyś powróci.

Consumăm virtualul, imagini în conservă, ne lăsăm contaminați de impactul unei vieți și unei societăți de consum care devine din ce în ce mai artificială. Îndoparea și adjuvantele au devenit necesare pentru a putea, pur și simplu, să te speli în fiecare dimineață, să poți sta în picioare, să mergi să muncești, să gestionezi la minimum o viață intimă sau familială, o viață personală mai exactă, alergând după timp, pentru a simți că sentimentul de a exista se face prezent în viețile noastre.

Et tant molestement le poursuivirent qu'il fut contraint soi reposer sur les tours de l'église notre Notre-Dame, auquel lieu étant, et voyant tant de gens, à l'entour de soi dit clairement: « Je crois que ces maroufles veulent que je leurs paye ici ma bienvenue et mon proficiat. C'est raison. Je leur vais donner le vin. Mais ce ne sera que par ris. » Lors en souriant détacha sa belle braguette, et tirant sa mentule en l'air les compissa si aigrement, qu'il en noya deux cent soixante mille, quatre cent dix et huit, sans les femmes et petit enfants. Quelque nombre d'iceux évada ce pissefort à légèreté des pieds. Et quand furent au plus haut de l'université, suant, toussant, crachant, et hors d'haleine , commencèrent à renier et jurer les uns en colère, les autres par ris: « Carimari, Carimara, Par sainte Mamie, nous son baignez par ris», dont fut depuis la ville nommée Paris laquelle auparavant on appelait Leucece, comme dit Strabo lib. 4 c'est-à-dire en grec, Blanchette, pour les blanches cuisses des dames dudit lieu.

Prezentul meu de azi nu este decât o secvență într-un viitor care se accelerează și care uneori devine dificil. Suntem ființe cu o istorie neîncetat în construcție, care ne atrage adesea spre trecut, ne imobilizează sau ne trimite la situații neterminate, răni sau vise nebune, și suntem și visători, constructori de viitor voind să punem viitorul în serviciul dorințelor noastre, mai ales când acesta se retrage sau lasă să apară zone de umbră și o amenințare la orizont. Trebuie astfel să mergem cât mai aproape de clipă, într-un prezent al prezentului.

B[ucur] T[incu], przyjaciel z dzieciństwa, pisze mi, ze czuje gorycz, bo nie mógł się "zrealizować". Takie rozgoryczenie jest nieuzasadnione. Każdy realizuje się na własny sposób. Ci zaś, którzy myślą, że pozostali gdzieś poniżej własnych możliwości, są w błędzie. Niech tylko spojrzą na tych, którym się udało, którzy dali z siebie wszystko, którzy - dzięki zasługom czy szczęściu - stali się znani: to wraki, strzępy, ludzie przegrani (...) Nic mi oni nie mają do powiedzenia, nudzę się przy nich; za to jakież wrażenie bogactwa w zetknięciu z tamtymi! Uciekajcie od wszystkich, którzy mają za sobą dzieło! (...) Jedyne, co robi mi naprawdę dobrze, to praca fizyczna. Nic innego nie potrafi mnie uszczęśliwić, bo nic innego tak przyjemnie ie zawiesza wiru pytań bez odpowiedzi. Doskwiera mi chroniczne roztargnienie. Dłuższa koncentracja męczy mnie i nudzi. Na szczęście jestem obsesjonatem, a obsesja zmusza nas do koncentracji, jest koncentracją automatyczną. "Zrobiliście błąd, stawiając na mnie!" - mamy w chwilach przygnębienia ochotę powiedzieć tym, którzy oczekują od nas Bóg wie jakich cudów. Zostać poniżej tego co można by zrobić, co powinno się zrobić... trudno o konstatację bardziej gorzką.

Dincolo de violența endemică ce ne invadează și încearcă să ne distrugă, să păstrăm această fărâmă de viață pentru a oferi celor dragi, celor care ne sunt în preajmă, și aceasta acum. Să ne ancorăm în prezent pentru a rezista, pentru a continua să alimentăm energia dragostei. Pentru că viitorul , astăzi, pare să se închidă într-un ciclu negativ. Și el, pentru mulți, a devenit sinonim de catastrofe. Nu mai este speranță când imprevizibilul este asasinat, când previzibilul opac, violent, distrugător obturează orizontul. Nu mai este speranță când observăm înverșunarea incredibilă pentru a distruge, abilitatea de a violenta, subtilitatea tehnică pentru a reuni cele mai bune mijloace pentru a atenta la viață.

Dar descoperim că Homo technicus de azi a devenit, pentru unii, echivalentul unui cancer pentru planeta Terra, în sensul în care acțiunile sale pe termen scurt și pe termen lung sunt capabile să agreseze, să distrugă sau să devitalizeze chiar principiile a tot ce este viu. Fie că este vorba de stratul de humus care se subțiază în fiecare an în mod excesiv, acest strat care conține principalele elemente care hrănesc tot ce este viu pe planeta noastră, fie că sunt oceanele care dețin deocamdată esențialul bogățiilor de hrană care ar trebui să ne permită să facem față la suprapopulare și la degradarea solulilor, fie că este vorba despre risipa de apă potabilă care începe să lipsească în anumite zone ale globului sau de agresiunea atmosferei, această pânză interminabilă care ne protejează de radiațiile solare, omul este factorul care cauzează toate aceste pagube.

Biblia być może, a nawet na pewno, daje moralne przyzwolenia na handel ludźmi, czystki etniczne, niewolnictwo, na wykupywanie żony oraz masowe masakry i rzezie, lecz my nie mamy z tym nic wspólnego, ponieważ dopuszczały się tego prymitywne, pozbawione ogłady ssaki z gatunku homo sapiens. Nie trzeba przy tym dodawać, że żadne z tych makabrycznych, obłąkańczych wydarzeń opisanych w Księdze Wyjścia nigdy nie nastąpiło. Izraelscy archeologowie należą do najlepszych w świecie specjalistów w tej dziedzinie, nawet jeśli ich profesjonalizm bywa czasami skażony pragnieniem udowodnienia, że „przymierze” między Bogiem a Mojżeszem jest oparte na faktach. Nie było chyba grupy wykopaliskowej i badawczej, która pracowałaby z większym zapałem i mozołem czy z większymi oczekiwaniami niż Izraelczycy, którzy przeszukiwali, ziarnko po ziarnku, piaski półwyspu Synaj oraz krainy Kanaan.

Zaczęli sezon grzewczy - na parterze wisi stosowna kartka. Dla nas to żadna nowina; i tak jest - od niedawna - ciepło, miękko, czule, bezpiecznie i przytulnie. Codzienna obojniość wygładza kontur zdarzeń - a jeszcze nie mamy po siedemdziestąt parę lat, gdy każda sójka lecąca nad podwórkiem, każda zmiana czasu z letniego na zimowy, każde wyjście z domu urasta do rozmiarów Ważnej Części Życia. Ta złość o zbitą szklankę! Przestawianie kubków na ich właściwe miejsce, z cichą, zwartą furią! Te kłótnie o kolejność czegokolwiek, troska że spodnie się przetarły... My za lat pięćdziesiąt: czuwanie nad strukturą, która, nić za nicią, niepowstrzymanie pęka, pruje się zaciekle, aż w końcu wypłyniemy na nieopisane morze bez znanych portów. Na razie możemy pomijać rozpoczęcie sezonu grzewczego milczeniem, lekceważyć porządek talerzy. Śmierć jest jak użyteczny, ale nie użyty przedmiot, który gdzieś leży w tekturze i folii na pawlaczu, pomiędzy pudłami z bombkami a nie noszonym płaszczem - pewna i gotowa; wystarczy po nią sięgnąć, gdy będzie potrzebnna.

So I was just sitting in the dining room feeling sorry for myself. “What am I going to do?” Almost as soon as I asked that question, the answer came. “End it all.” Oh, I don’t know what possessed me. I really don’t have any idea at all. But I got up and walked over to a window. Well, that window was painted shut, so I went to another window. That one led out to a gangway, a stairwell, where I figured no one would find me until my body started to smell. No, that wouldn’t do. I looked at the front windows. One was a picture window that didn’t open, but then I couldn’t jump from those windows on the sides, either. Children played out front and that would be so traumatic for them. Besides, after I thought about it a little more, I realized something else that was very important: I wasn’t wearing pants. I didn’t wear pants back then. I was wearing a dress that Mama had made for me. Oh, I remember that dress. It was sleeveless, real tight in the waist with a long flared skirt. It was a white dress, white with a floral pattern, some kind of design in it, and that design was pink. That was one of my favorite dresses. I couldn’t stand the thought of jumping in that dress. More important, I couldn’t stand the thought that my skirt might fly up. Just then, as I was thinking about all that, the phone rang. It was a reporter. He was thinking about doing a follow-up story on me and he wanted to know what I was planning to do. Well, I couldn’t tell him I was planning to jump out the window. So I said I wanted to go back to school and become a teacher. I turned around as if to ask, “Who said that?” Now, I don’t know to this day where it came from, but he said he would take me to register for classes. I mean, he was just going to carry me down to the college and walk me through it. That was fine with me, because I didn’t even know where to go. I hadn’t exactly given this a whole lot of thought. As it turns out, the place to go was Chicago Teachers College. He took me there and, unfortunately, we were told that registration for classes had just closed. Before I even got a chance to start thinking about those windows back home again, he somehow convinced them to admit just one more student, and that’s how it all started. That’s how I was able to start over. I was going to go to college. I was going to become a teacher. I would be able to work with children, to teach them, to help shape them, to introduce them to a whole world of possibilities. In the process, a whole world of possibilities was opening up to me. Throughout my life I have heard a great many stories about how people received the call to their life’s mission. I have to smile when I recall how I received mine. For me, the call came by phone, from a reporter.

W piaskownicy dziecko buduje zamki z piasku. Wciąż buduje nowe. Z podziwem przygląda się swojemu dziełu zaledwie przez moment, bo budowla zaraz się rozsypuje. Tak samo czas eksperymentuje na Ziemi. Pisze na niej historię świata, szkicuje wydarzenia, ludzi, a potem skreśla. Kipi tu życiem jak w kotle czarownicy, Aż pewnego dnia my zostajemy wymodelowani z tej samej kruchej materii co nasi przodkowie. Miota nami wiatr historii, unosi nas. Jest z nami. Ale w końcu nas porzuca. Jak za dotknięciem czarodziejskiej różdżki pojawiamy się i znikamy. Przez cały czas czekają inni i szykują się do zajęcia naszego miejsca. Bo nie mamy pod stopami stałego gruntu. Nie mamy nawet piasku. Sami jesteśmy piaskiem. (...) Nie ma takiego miejsca, w którym można by się schować przed czasem. Możemy ukrywać się przed królami i cesarzami, może zdołalibyśmy ukryć się przed Bogiem. Ale przed czasem schować się nie da. Czas dopadnie nas wszędzie, bo wszystko, co nas otacza, zanurzone jest w tym niespokojnym żywiole. (...) Czas nie mija, Hansie Thomasie. I nie cyka. To my mijamy, a cykają nasze zegarki. Tak samo cicho i nieubłaganie jak słońce, wstające na wschodzie i zachodzące na zachodzie, czas przeżera historię. Niszczy wielkie cywilizacje, podgryza dawne pomniki, pochłania pokolenie za pokoleniem. Dlatego właśnie mówimy o "zębie czasu". Bo czas nadgryza i przeżuwa, a między jego trzonowcami jesteśmy my. (...) Przez ułamek chwili jesteśmy cząstką tego ustawicznie zmieniającego się mrowiska. Biegamy po ziemi, jakby to było najbardziej oczywistą rzeczą. Widziałeś to mrowie ludzi na Akropolu! Ale to wszystko kiedyś zniknie. Zniknie i zostanie zastąpione nowym mrowiskiem. Bo wciąż ludzie czekają w kolejce. Kształty pojawiają się i znikają. Maski przybywają i odchodzą. Wciąż pojawiają się nowe wynalazki. Żaden temat się nie powtarza, żadna kompozycja nie układa się dwa razy tak samo... Nie ma nic bardziej skomplikowanego i cenniejszego od człowieka, synku. A mimo to traktuje się nas jak tanie świecidełka! (...) Chodzimy sobie po ziemi jak te figurki w śmiesznej bajce. Kiwamy głowami jak pajacyki i uśmiechamy się do siebie. Jakbyśmy sobie powtarzali: "Cześć, żyjemy razem! znajdujemy się w tej samej rzeczywistości - czyli w tej samej bajce..." Czy to nie zdumiewające, Jansie Thomasie? Żyjemy razem na jednej z planet we wszechświecie. Aż nagle zostajemy usunięci z boiska. Hokus-pokus i już nas nie ma. (...) Gdybyśmy żyli w innym stuleciu dzielilibyśmy życie z innymi ludźmi. Dziś możemy kiwać głowami i uśmiechać się na powitanie tylko do ludzi nam współczesnych. Możemy mówić: "Cześć! Jakie to dziwne, że żyjemy akurat w tym samym czasie". Możemy też poklepać kogoś po plecach, i zawołać "Witaj, duszo!" (...) Żyjemy, słyszysz? Ale tylko teraz. Mówimy, że istniejemy. Tymczasem spycha się nas na bok i wciska w mrok historii. Bo jesteśmy jednorazowi. Uczestniczymy w odwiecznej maskaradzie, w której maski pojawiają się i znikają. Długi długi rząd masek... Czyż nie zasłużyliśmy na coś lepszego, Hansie Thomasie? Ty, ja zasłużyliśmy, by nasze imiona zostały wyryte na wieczność, by pozostał po nich ślad w tej wielkiej piaskownicy.