Manto Quotes

If you cannot bear these stories then the society is unbearable. Who am I to remove the clothes of this society, which itself is naked. I don't even try to cover it, because it is not my job, that's the job of dressmakers.

Hindustan had become free. Pakistan had become independent soon after its inception but man was still slave in both these countries -- slave of prejudice … slave of religious fanaticism … slave of barbarity and inhumanity.

If a man has to make a woman the center of his love, why should he integrate animality into this sacred human emotion?...Is love incompelete without it?...Is love the name of physical excersize ?

Here in Manto's own words that he wanted to mark his grave with: "In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful Here lies Saadat Hasan Manto and with him lie buried all the secrets and mysteries of the art of short-story writing.... Under tons of earth he lies, still wondering who among the two is greater short-story writer: God or He.

...and it is also possible, that Saadat Hasan dies, but Manto remains alive.

I feel like I am always the one tearing everything up and forever sewing it back together.

To tell you the truth, the world seemed full of sad people – those who slept on the uncovered stoops of shops as well as those who lived in high-rise mansions. The man who walks about on foot worries that he doesn’t have decent shoes to wear. The man who rides the automobile frets that he doesn’t have the latest model car. Every man’s complaint is valid in its own way. Every man’s wish is legitimate in its own right.

You would have realized that it wasn't Mumtaz, a muslim, a friend of yours, but a human being you had killed. I mean, if he was a bastard, by killing him you wouldn't have killed the bastard in him; similarly, assuming that he was a Muslim, you wouldn't have killed his Muslimness, but him.

I'm interested in things women do that aren't spoken about. Manto's stories let me breathe. They make me feel like less of a monster.

Manto had earlier been prosecuted in Lahore for obscenity, and one of the words alleged to have been obscene was, “breasts

A man remains a man no matter how poor his conduct. A woman, even if she were to deviate for one instance, from the role given to her by men, is branded a whore. She is viewed with lust and contempt. Society closes on her doors it leaves ajar for a man stained by the same ink. If both are equal, why are our barbs reserved for the woman?

We’ve been hearing this for some time now — Save India from this, save it from that. The fact is that India needs to be saved from the people who say it should be saved.

He catches the thieves that lie in the hearts of their pure and respectable wives. And he compares them to the purity in the heart of a whore in a brothel.

Her pores were like those of an orange, its skin filled with juice, which, if you applied the slightest pressure, would squirt up into your eyes. She was that fresh.

Look this is hardly fair. You sold me impure petrol at black-market price and not even one shop could be put to the torch.

ज़माने के जिस दौर से हम गुज़र रहे हैं, अगर आप उससे वाकिफ़ नहीं हैं तो मेरे अफसाने पढ़िये और अगर आप इन अफसानों को बरदाश्त नहीं कर सकते तो इसका मतलब है कि ज़माना नाक़ाबिले-बरदाश्त है। मेरी तहरीर(लेखन) में कोई नुक़्स नहीं । जिस नुक़्स को मेरे नाम से मनसूब किया जाता है, वह दरअसल मौजूदा निज़ाम का एक नुक़्स है। मैं हंगामा-पसन्द नहीं हूं और लोगों के ख्यालात में हैज़ान पैदा करना नहीं चाहता। मैं तहज़ीब, तमद्दुन, और सोसाइटी की चोली क्या उतारुंगा, जो है ही नंगी। मैं उसे कपड़े पहनाने की कोशिश भी नहीं करता, क्योंकि यह मेरा काम नहीं, दर्ज़ियों का काम है ।

To those men who say that women from “good families” must come into the world of cinema, I have this question: What is it that you mean by “good?” A woman, who honestly puts her wares on display, and sells them without an intention to cheat, is such a woman not virtuous?

War has brought inflation even to the graveyard.

I wondered why people consider escapism so bad, even the escapism on display right then. At first it might appear unseemly, but in the end its lack of pretension gives it its own sort of beauty.

... इधर-उधर से कई अफ़सर दौड़े आए और उन्होंने देखा कि वह आदमी जो 15 बरस तक दिन-रात अपनी दाँगों पर खड़ा रहा था, औंधे मुँह लेटा है-उधर ख़ारदार तारों के पीछे हिंदुस्तान था, इधर वैसे ही तारों के पीछे पाकिस्तान ; दरमियान में ज़मीन के उस टुकड़े पर जिसका कोई नाम नहीं था, टोबा टेक सिंह पड़ा था.

La besó nervioso, con añoranza, sin saber cómo se hacía, pero con todo su ser. Y la besó despacio, bajo el manto de las estrellas y entre el vaivén de las olas. Y la besó con el corazón, con el descubrimiento de un nuevo sentimiento, con la confirmación. Y la besó y quiso que durara para toda la vida.

Manto's take on Ismat: "Ismat’s pen and tongue both run fast. When she starts writing, her ideas race ahead and the words cannot catch up with them. When she speaks, her words seem to tumble over one another. If sheenters the kitchen to show her culinary skill, everything will be in a mess. Being hasty by nature, she would conjure up the cooked roti in her mind even before she had finished kneading the dough. The potatoes would note yet be peeled although she would have already finished making the curry in her imagination. I feel sometimes she may just go into the kitchen andcome out again afer being satiated by her imagination.

For me, remembrance of things past has always been a waste of time, and what’s the point of tears? I don’t know. I’ve always been focussed on today. Yesterday and tomorrow hold no interest for me. What had to happen, did, and what will happen, will.

خالی پیٹ کا مذہب روٹی ہوتا ہے۔

My nightmares relate all of man's inhumanity to man---to our willing acceptance of cruelty to the other animals.

MADRE: Pues es loca de no haber gritado todo lo que mi pecho necesita. Tengo en mi pecho un grito siempre puesto de pie a quien tengo que castigar y meter entre los mantos.

In Mexico City they somehow wandered into an exhibition of paintings by the beautiful Spanish exile Remedios Varo: in the central painting of a triptych, titled “Bordando el Manto Terrestre,” were a number of frail girls with heart-shaped faces, huge eyes, spun-gold hair, prisoners in the top room of a circular tower, embroidering a kind of tapestry which spilled out the slit windows and into a void, seeking hopelessly to fill the void: for all the other buildings and creatures, all the waves, ships and forests of the earth were contained in the tapestry, and the tapestry was the world. Oedipa, perverse, had stood in front of the painting and cried. No one had noticed; she wore dark green bubble shades. For a moment she’d wondered if the seal around her sockets were tight enough to allow the tears simply to go on and fill up the entire lens space and never dry. She could carry the sadness of the moment with her that way forever, see the world refracted through those tears, those specific tears, as if indices as yet unfound varied in important ways from cry to cry. She had looked down at her feet and known, then, because of a painting, that what she stood on had only been woven together a couple thousand miles away in her own tower, was only by accident known as Mexico, and so Pierce had take her away from nothing, there’d been no escape. What did she so desire escape from? Such a captive maiden, having plenty of time to think, soon realizes that her tower, its height and architecture, are like her ego only incidental: that what really keeps her where she is is magic, anonymous and malignant, visited on her from outside and for no reason at all. Having no apparatus except gut fear and female cunning to examine this formless magic, to understand how it works, how to measure its field strength, count its lines of force, she may fall back on superstition, or take up a useful hobby like embroidery, or go mad, or marry a disk jockey. If the tower is everywhere and the knight of deliverance no proof against its magic, what else?

Dear God, master of the universe, compassionate and merciful: we who are steeped in sin, kneel in supplication before your throne and beseech you to recall from this world Saadat Hasan Manto, son of Ghulam Hasan Manto, who was a man of great piety. Take him away, Lord, for he runs away from fragrance and chases after filth. He hates the bright sun, preferring dark labyrinths. He has nothing but contempt for modesty but is fascinated by the naked and the shameless. He hates sweetness, but will give his life to taste bitter fruit. He will not so much as look at housewives but is in seventh heaven in the company of whores. He will not go near running waters, but loves to wade through filth. Where others weep, he laughs; and where others laugh, he weeps. Faces blackened by evil, he loves to wash with tender care to make visible their real features. He never thinks about you but follows Satan everywhere, the same fallen angel who once disobeyed you.

Literature and film in my opinion are like saloons where bottles have no labels. I want to taste each one myself and figure out which is what. If I'm denied this by labelling, then my entertainment is considerably lessened.

The field that cannot feed even its tiller Burn down every stalk that stands on it.

Sobre a nudez forte da verdade -- o manto diáfono da fantasia.

Why, my man is created from the outside, that is, he is inauthentic in essence- he is always not-himself, because he is determined by form, which is born between people. His "I", therefore, is marked for him in that "interhumanity." An eternal actor, but a natural one, because his artificiality is inborn, it makes up a feature of his humanity-to be a man means to be an actor-to be a man means to pretend to be a man-to be a man means to "act like" a man while not being one deep inside-to be a man is to recite humanity.

I glanced past her and behind her, furtively, at the fifth passenger-the tiny elderly man-to see if his insularity was still in tact. It was. No one's indifference has ever been such a comfort to me.

Writers rarely set out to be national writers. They need small, intimate worlds, full of details; the macro scale of countries, especially those as wide and various as India, cannot be their direct material.

Allah sends down natural disasters to control population explosion. He encourages us to go to war, He creates Pakistan and Akhand Bharat. In doing this, He teaches humans new and innovative methods of birth control.

[...] El hecho de saber lo que podía ocurrir era agobiante, un manto asfixiante de miedo y sufrimiento que empezaba a cobrar vida. Casi deseaba que aquellos cabrones llegaran y acabaran con todo. La espera era insoportable. Los gemidos distantes de los laceradores se iban acercando a medida que la noche avanzaba, y cada minuto parecía durar más que el anterior.

Yo quisiera forjar para cada uno de vosotros una maravillosa estrofa tejida de frases exquisitas, en la que os pudiérais envolver con orgullo, como en un manto de púrpura. Yo quisiera poder cincelar la forma que ha de conteneros, como se cincela el vaso de oro que ha de guardar un preciado perfume.

thought a glass of lassi would be refreshing. In the shop I noticed that the fan was on, but turned away from both customers and the owner. I was curious and asked why it was so. The owner glared at me and said: ‘Can’t you see?’ I looked. The fan was pointed in the direction of a poster of our great leader, Muhammad Ali Jinnah. I shouted, ‘Pakistan Zindabad!’ and left without the lassi. In front of a shop, a man

As a writer I find the relationship fascinating. Consider it. There is tension, and often unpleasantness, in both the union of man and woman, and of State and citizen. There is a great deal of hypocrisy too, but the relationship is not ever severed. The intercourse between State and citizens (it will be appropriate to call it forcible intercourse) also produces offspring as a marriage does. But frightening ones, like the “Safety Act and Ordinance”. Offspring that resemble their father, the State, more than the citizenry.

—Ells.. —susurra después de un momento. Su aliento se arrastra sobre mí, un manto de calma. Empuja el cabello fuera de mi cara y me mira, realmente me mira—.Eres mi otra mitad.

Senhor Deus dos desgraçados! Dizei-me vós, Senhor Deus! Se é loucura... se é verdade Tanto horror perante os céus?! Ó mar, por que não apagas Co'a esponja de tuas vagas De teu manto este borrão?... Astros! noites! tempestades! Rolai das imensidades! Varrei os mares, tufão!

Engulfed by a sudden emptiness, she was reminded of a train which after discharging passengers at various stations, has finally come to rest, empty at a railway shed.

Literature is a symptom of the state of a society

A TUZZO LANTO Poici di Pare TANto SAca TULna TI, na PUta TUchi PUti TI la. RUNto CAta CHANto CHANta MANto CHI la TI da. YALta CAra SULda MI la CHAta Picha Pino Tito BRALda pe te CHIna nana CHUNda lala CHINda lala CHUNda! RONto piti CA le, a TANto CHINto quinta LALda ola TiNta dalla LALta, YENta PUcha lalla TALta!

He ate off dirty plates and was unfazed. His pillowcase was soiled and stank, but he never thought of changing it. Hamid thought long and hard, but he couldn’t understand him. He often asked, ‘Babuji, why aren’t you revolted by dirtiness?

Descubrir a Dios entre las sábanas —no en el templo fariseo ni en la altiva mezquita— sábanas blancas sudario del amor que te cubría manto sagrado iniciar la bienaventurada ascensión de tu piel a la eternidad de tu vientre al círculo celestial sentir a Dios en tus húmedas cavidades en el grito vertiginoso de la jauría de tus vísceras

Mudam-se os tempos, mudam-se as vontades Muda-se o ser, muda-se a confiança; Todo o mundo é composto de mudança, Tomando sempre novas qualidades. Continuamente vemos novidades, Diferentes em tudo da esperança; Do mal ficam as mágoas na lembrança, E do bem, se algum houve, as saudades. O tempo cobre o chão de verde manto, Que já coberto foi de neve fria, E em mim converte em choro o doce canto. E, afora este mudar-se cada dia, Outra mudança faz de mor espanto: Que não se muda já como soía.

that ugly truth about Manto, the man: that for all his love of Indian multiplicity, he went to Pakistan. He even tried convincing Chughtai to go. ‘The future looks beautiful in Pakistan,’ he said to her, ‘We’ll be able to get the houses of people who’ve fled from there. It’ll be just us there. We’ll progress very quickly.’ When I read this, I had trouble holding the two Mantos in my mind. It seemed impossible that the creator of Manto, the narrator and fictional presence, so immersed in the variety of India, seeming so much to rejoice in it, should also be the author of that remark, with its sly wish for homogeneity, for the place where ‘It’ll be just us.’ Chughtai, for other reasons, was also disgusted.

میرے شہر کے معززین کو میرے شہر کی طوائفوں سےزیادہ بہتر کوئی نہیں جانتا۔

She could crowd a thousand thoughts into her head, but it was, at that moment like a strainer -- the more she tried to fill up every little corner, the more emptiness there was.

La gente no aprecia el manto de invisibilidad del anonimato hasta que se lo desgarran.

Era una profunda tristeza que me embargaba como un manto del cual no se puede escapar; sus tentáculos me sumían en un profundo abismo de melancolía.

Atrás, en la entrada de Verdis, un manto de cadáveres lucía sobre un rojo suelo que, a la luz de los relámpagos, anunciaba el fin de una era.

Entonces Job se levantó, y rasgó su manto, y rasuró su cabeza, y se postró en tierra y adoró,

Saadi en su Bostán: “El Sendero no se encuentra en el rosario, la alfombra de oración y el manto”.

Um vestido vermelho contra um manto negro, uma rosa mergulhada na meia-noite.

When we were enslaved, we could imagine freedom, but now that we are free, how will we imagine subjection?

I thought that the Hindus and Muslims would busy themselves in this war and their blood, which did not mix in mosque and temple, would finally mingle in Bombay’s drains and gutters. I

A little ahead was a shop burnt in the riots. A man now sat inside with two large slabs of ice on the floor. A thought came to me: ‘At last the poor shop has the chance to cool itself.

En adelante, sólo vivirás consagraciones. Los momentos que lo merezcan se verán revestidos de un manto de armiño y serán coronados en la catedral de tu cráneo. Tus emociones serán distintas.

A true natural aristocracy is not a separate interest in the state, or separable from it. It is an essential integrant part of any large body rightly constituted. It is formed out of a class of legitimate presumptions, which taken as generalities, must be admitted for actual truths. To be bred in a place of estimation; to see nothing low and sordid from one’s infancy; to be taught to respect one’s self; to be habituated to the censorial inspection of the public eye; to look early to public opinion; to stand upon such elevated ground as to be enabled to take a large view of the wide-spread and infinitely diversified combinations of men and affairs in a large society; to have leisure to read, to reflect, to converse; to be enabled to draw the court and attention of the wise and learned wherever they are to be found;—to be habituated in armies to command and to obey; to be taught to despise danger in the pursuit of honor and duty; to be formed to the greatest degree of vigilance, foresight and circumspection, in a state of things in which no fault is committed with impunity, and the slightest mistakes draw on the most ruinous consequence—to be led to a guarded and regulated conduct, from a sense that you are considered as an instructor of your fellow-citizens in their highest concerns, and that you act as a reconciler between God and man—to be employed as an administrator of law and justice, and to be thereby amongst the first benefactors to mankind—to be a professor of high science, or of liberal and ingenuous art—to be amongst rich traders, who from their success are presumed to have sharp and vigorous understandings, and to possess the virtues of diligence, order, constancy, and regularity, and to have cultivated an habitual regard to commutative justice—these are the circumstances of men, that form what I should call a natural aristocracy, without which there is no nation.

His last years were beset with financial troubles; he drank heavily; he wrote to Chughtai on more than one occasion, pleading with her to find a way for him to come back to India. She was surprised to learn that far from large protests and signed declarations on his behalf, many in Pakistan felt he deserved to be punished. He died on January 18, 1955 in Lahore at the age of forty two.

In God is Gracious, a satirical essay published in 1954, the writer Saadat Hasan Manto envisaged a Pakistan in which poetry, arts and music were silenced by accusations of blasphemy. His words proved prophetic

If there is a God, I implore him -- for God's sake destroy the laws of men, demolish their prisons and make your own prisons in the heavens. Punish them in your own courts, because if nothing else, you are at least, God.

God commands worship but doesn't five it. After having spent a few moments with nothingness, he gave life to existence ... but where is nothingness now? Like a mother it gave birth to existence and then died in childbirth.

Mis pupilas se posan en la luna negra poco perceptible al ojo humano. Esta noche es especialmente oscura. Un de esas noches en las que la nostalgia de la eternidad te cubre con su manto frío, provocando el tiritar de tus huesos muertos y vacíos, llenos de la perpetua nada que acompaña al ser que una vez tuvo llameante sangre en las venas. Esta misma fecha, un dieciocho de diciembre de mil novecientos ochenta y dos, un vampiro acabó con mi vida." (Relato)

Moses had come to know God as Jehovah-shalom, the God of all peace. This is the deepest need of the human heart—to be at peace with God and with oneself. The proof that his heart was at peace was that it was filled with praise…not necessarily for what God had done, but for who God is. He was living out the chief end of man—-to glorify God and enjoy him forever. Psalm 29:11 says, “The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.

Antes disso (para ser preciso, 2500 anos antes), o poeta elegíaco Teógnis escreveu para um amigo: “A primeira coisa, Kurnos, que os deuses concedem a alguém que querem aniquilar é o orgulho.” E ainda assim escolhemos vestir esse manto!

Para não enxaguarmos demasiado depressa o branco manto dos justos, perguntemos a nós mesmos: se a minha vida tivesse sido diferente, não me teria tornado também um carrasco destes? É uma pergunta terrível, se lhe respondermos honestamente.

We may force a dog, sometimes, to act like a man—to walk on his hind legs and wear a collar and so forth. But we shouldn’t and couldn’t force a man to act like a man. Did you ever want to fall asleep? When you weren’t sleepy or even tired?” He nodded. “That was because you wanted to put down the burden of being a boy, at least for a time. Sometimes I drink too much wine, and that is because for a while I would like to stop being a man. Sometimes people take their own lives for that reason. Did you know that?

Dicen que dando lástima, se logra conseguir el amor. Si yo entre lágrimas te enseñara que sufro, que me dueles, algo, tal vez, podría. Pero quiero decírtelo: Yo no voy a llorar ni a lamentarme. Como nadie sabrá que me has querido, nadie sabrá que me dejaste.

2. A disregard of competition. Whoever does a thing best ought to be the one to do it. It is criminal to try to get business away from another man—criminal because one is then trying to lower for personal gain the condition of one's fellow man—to rule by force instead of by intelligence.

TU, SEÑOR, EN EL PRINCIPIO PUSISTE LOS CIMIENTOS DE LA TIERRA, Y LOS CIELOS SON OBRA DE TUS MANOS; 11ELLOS PERECERAN, PERO TU PERMANECES; Y TODOS ELLOS COMO UNA VESTIDURA SE ENVEJECERAN, 12Y COMO UN MANTO LOS ENROLLARAS; COMO UNA VESTIDURA SERAN MUDADOS. PERO TU ERES EL MISMO, Y TUS AÑOS NO TENDRAN FIN.

En ese momento, cuando el manto de nubes se abría en grietas muy finas, la luz última del día empezaba a traspasar el cielo y ya todo era de un color dorado brillante. Se me metió una agonía fuerte dentro del pecho, como si me faltara la respiración. Yo nunca sabía decirle adiós a Isora. La miraba como quien se prepara para decir adiós por muchos años.

मैं चूँकि ज़्यादा पीने का आदी हूँ, इसलिए मैं ज्यों का त्यों बैठा था।

I wondered why people consider escapism so bad, even the escapism on display right then. At first it might appear unseemly, but in the end its lack of pretension gives it its own sort of beauty.

When Hamid dropped Lata off at her house at nine that night, he felt hollow. The touch of her soft body was sheared from him like bark from a tree, and he spent the entire night tossing and turning.

Jaime," ela disse, puxando-lhe a orelha "querido, eu o conheço desde que era um bebê no colo de Joanna. Sorri como Gerion e luta como Tyg, e há um pouco de Kevan em você, caso contrário não usaria esse manto... Mas o filho de Tywin é Tyrion, não você. Certa vez, eu disse isso na cara de seu pai, e ele não falou comigo durante meio ano. Os homens são uns tremendos idiotas. Até aqueles que aparecem uma vez a cada mil anos.

Does evil come from inside ,from the dark depths of the human soul or does it come from outside ,from the objective conditions of human life? This question divides all people into two large groups: believers and materialists. For believers all evil and good is in man. Hence denying violence because it's directed toward the outside, is a fight with an imaginary, nonexistent evil. Violence should be directed toward ourselves, inside, in the form of repentance or asceticism. To assert that evil is outside, that a man is evil because the conditions in which he lives are bad, that changes in these conditions would bring changes in man,to insist that man is a result of outside circumstances, is from the religious point of view the most godless and the most inhuman idea which has ever appeared in the human mind. Such an opinion degrades man to a thing, to a helpless executor of outside, mechanical, unconscious forces.

dormir, realmente dormir com alguém, dava aquela sensação de intimidade, como se seus sonhos fluíssem de você para se misturar com os dele e envolvessem a ambos num manto de conhecimento inconsciente. Uma espécie de regressão, pensei. Em tempos antigos, mais primitivos (como estes?, perguntou outra parte de minha mente), era um ato de confiança dormir na presença de outra pessoa. Se a confiança fosse mútua, o simples sono era capaz de uni-los mais do que a junção de corpos.

le echaron encima un manto de escarlata, 29y pusieron sobre su cabeza una corona tejida de espinas, y una caña en su mano derecha; e hincando la rodilla delante de él, le escarnecían, diciendo: ¡Salve, Rey de los judíos! 30Y escupiéndole, tomaban la caña y le golpeaban en la cabeza. 31Después de haberle escarnecido, le quitaron el manto, le pusieron sus vestidos, y le llevaron para crucificarle. 32Cuando salían, hallaron a un hombre de Cirene que se llamaba Simón; a éste obligaron a

—¿Oyes la nieve golpeando sobre los cristales de la ventana, gatito? ¡Qué sonido más agradable y más suave! Es como si estuvieran dándole besos al cristal por fuera. Me pregunto si será por amor por lo que la nieve besa tan delicadamente a los árboles y a los campos, cubriéndolos luego, por decirlo así, con su manto blanco; y quizá les diga también 'duerman ahora, queridos, hasta que vuelva de nuevo el verano'; y cuando se despiertan al llegar el verano, gatito, se visten todos de verde y danzan ligeros..., siempre al vaivén del viento.

EIS-ME Eis-me Tendo-me despido de todos os meus mantos Tendo-me separado de adivinhos mágicos e deuses Para ficar sozinha ante o silêncio Ante o silêncio e o esplendor da tua face Mas tu és de todos o ausente o ausente Nem o teu ombro me nem a tua mão me toca O meu coração desce as escadas do tempo (em que não moras) E o teu encontro São planícies e planícies de silêncio Escura é a noite Escura e transparente Mas o teu rosto está para além do tempo opaco E eu não habito os jardins do teu silêncio Porque tu és de todos os ausentes o ausente

No meu corpo há duas almas em competição, Anseia cada qual da outra se apartar. Uma rude, me arrasta aos prazeres da terra, E se apega a este mundo, anseios redobrados; Outra ascende nos ares; nos espaços erra, Aspira à vida eterna e a seus antepassados. Oh, se existem espíritos no alto firmamento, Que entre a terra e o céu se agitam com frequência Que desçam dessa névoa áurea, num momento, E me levem a essa nova e brilhante existência! Sim! Quisera possuir um manto de magia, A levar-me a estranhas, distantes regiões! Tanto valor teriam as novas emoções, Que por um manto real talvez não o trocaria.

Saugandhi lived in her brain. But when a man spoke to her gently, she descended and spread to all parts of her body. Although her mind abhorred the physical relationship between a man and a woman, her body hungered for it. It yearned for exhaustion and forgetfulness, the wondrous sleep that takes over after the body has been wracked, the peace which follows after the body has taken a beating, the bones aching and loose. You forget you exist and in those intervals of being and nonbeing you feel you are high up in the sky, surrounded on all sides by nothing but air. Stifling in that atmosphere would be joy.

—Que descanses —añadí y mientras observaba como ella tenía la intención de regresar a su habitación, me acordé—. ¡Alex, espera! —¿Qué ocurre? —preguntó ella con rapidez un tanto alarmada. Ensanché una media sonrisa y saboreé el momento. Ver como sus cabellos se mecían por el viento, con su pijama rosado que se ceñía sobre su cuerpo de una forma sutil y atrayente, mientras se apoyaba sobre el alféizar de su ventana. Impaciente pero hermosa, con sus ojos plateados refulgir bajo el manto de la nieve que recién caía. Fue entonces cuando sentí la armonía y la sensación cálida del amor. —Feliz cumpleaños —susurré.

había una cueva, y Saúl entró en ella para hacer sus necesidades. Y David y sus hombres estaban sentados en los rincones de la cueva. 4Y los hombres de David le dijeron: Mira, este es el día del que te habló el SEÑOR: “He aquí, voy a entregar a tu enemigo en tu mano, y harás con él como bien te parezca.” Entonces David se levantó y cortó a escondidas la orilla del manto de Saúl. 5Aconteció después de esto que la conciencia de David le remordía, porque había cortado la orilla del manto de Saúl. 6Y dijo a sus hombres: El SEÑOR me guarde de hacer tal cosa contra mi rey, el ungido del SEÑOR, de extender contra él mi mano, porque es el ungido del SEÑOR.

Ver a tu amante dormida, risueña en su sueño apacible bajo tu protección, amándote hasta en sueños, en el momento en que la criatura parece dejar de ser, y ofreciéndote todavía una boca muda que en el sueño te habla del último beso; ver una mujer confiada, medio desnuda, aunque envuelta en su amor como en un manto, y casta en el seno del desorden; admirar sus vestidos esparcidos, una media de seda, quitada rápidamente la noche anterior para complacerte, un ceñidor desabrochado que te confiesa una fe infinita, ¿no es un gozo sin nombre? Ese ceñidor es un poema entero, la mujer a la que defendía ya no existe, es tuya, se ha hecho tú. Si le eres infiel en lo sucesivo, te hieres a ti mismo.

We must tell unbelievers that they have violated God’s perfect law, committed sinful rebellion against Him, and are destined for eternal conscious punishment—hell. However, because of God’s grace, love, and mercy, He sent His Son into the world—the person of Jesus Christ, who is Himself fully God and fully man—to give Himself as a substitute sacrifice for our sin. On the cross, Jesus bore our sins on His body, suffered and satisfied the full fury of God’s wrath, secured the forgiveness of sins, and restored the possibility of relationship with the Father. And then, on the third day, Jesus rose from the grave to bring new life to all who repent of their sins and trust in Him for salvation. We

Ya se ve: la envidia, la ambición, he ahí las causas reales de disturbios de los que el interés de Dios no fue más que un pretexto. ¡Oh, religión! Hasta qué punto te respetan los hombres; cuando tantos horrores emanan de ti, ¿no puede sospecharse por un momento que no eres entre nosotros sino el manto bajo en el que se envuelve la discordia cuando quiere destilar su veneno sobre la tierra? ¡Cómo! Si existe un Dios, ¿qué importa la forma en que los hombres le adoren? ¿Son virtudes o ceremonias lo que exige? Si no quiere de nosotros más que corazones puros, ¿puede ser honrado mejor por un culto que por otro cuando la adopción del primero en lugar del segundo debe costar tantos crímenes a los hombres?

Al recibir pocos derechos efectivos, el ciudadano piensa que tiene pocas obligaciones verdaderas. En este mundo de obligaciones y derechos de baja intensidad, el ciudadano ha preferido mantener su situacion de relativo privilegio y no participar mas para construir una sociedad de derechos verdaderos para todos. Al mismo tiempo cree que tiene derecho a todo tipo de subsidios, que ni cuenta se da de que esta recibiendo; es lo que sucede con el agua, que en la ciudad de Mexico o en las zonas agricolas se vende por debajo de su costo, por lo que nos estamos terminando los mantos de agua subterranea. Tambien creemos que tenemos el derecho a subsidios energeticos de todo tipo, y si sube la gasolina en el mundo creemos que el gobierno no debe subir el precio interno.

Así, el sábado ―con la carta de míster Browning abierta sobre la mesa― empezó a vestirse. Leyó la última advertencia de él: «…y, al tomar esta actitud, me sitúo frente a la execrable táctica de los maridos, padres, hermanos y demás dominadores que haya en el mundo». De manera que si ella iba a Whitechapel, se ponía con esto contra Robert Browning y a favor de los padres, hermanos y demás dominadores. A pesar de ello, siguió vistiéndose. Un perro aullaba porque lo tenían atado. Estaba indefenso en poder de unos hombres crueles. Le parecía que los aullidos le gritaban: «; Piensa en Flush!» Se calzó, se puso el manto y el sombrero. Miró una vez más la carta de míster Browning. «Me voy a casar contigo», leyó. El perro seguía aullando. Salió de la habitación, bajó las escaleras…

Il signor Palomar, continuando a osservare le giraffe in corsa, si rende conto d'una complicata armonia che comanda quel trepestio disarmonico, d'una proporzione interna che lega tra loro le più vistose sproporzioni anatomiche, d'una grazia naturale che vien fuori da quelle movenze sgraziate. L'elemento unificatore è dato dalle macchie del pelo, disposte in figure irregolari ma omogenee, dai contorni netti e angolosi; esse si accordano come un esatto equivalente grafico ai movimenti segmentati dell'animale. Più che di macchie si dovrebbe parlare d'un manto nero la cui uniformità è spezzata da nervature chiare che s'aprono seguendo un disegno a losanghe: una discontinuità di pigmentazione che già annuncia la discontinuità dei movimenti. A questa punto la bambina del signor Palomar, che si è stancata da un pezzo di guardare le giraffe, lo trascina verso la grotta dei pinguini. Il signor Palomar, cui i pinguini dànno angoscia, la segue a malincuore...

y a los desechos humanos, aunque sean cualidades oscuras; si tejo en torno a ellos trágicas guirnaldas; si hasta el más triste, quizá el más abatido de todos se eleva a las cimas más altas; si toco el brazo de ese trabajador con un poco de luz etérea; si despliego un arco iris sobre su desolado crepúsculo; si hago todo eso, Tú, justo Espíritu de la Igualdad, confírmame en esa dignidad contra todos los críticos mortales: Tú, que has tendido sobre toda mi especie un manto real de humanidad. Confírmame en ella, Tú, gran Dios democrático que no rehusaste a Bunyan, el oscuro convicto, la pálida perla de la poesía; Tú, que cubriste con láminas del oro más fino dos veces batido el brazo manco y misérrimo del viejo Cervantes; Tú, que recogiste a Andrew Jackson de entre los guijarros, lo lanzaste en un corcel de guerra y lo subiste más alto que un trono. Tú, que en todos tus solemnes paseos por la tierra siempre eliges a tus mejores paladines entre el real común, ¡confírmame en ella, oh Dios!

Desde la parte de Dios que hay en mí, Yo te bendigo mi casa querida, bendigo cada átomo de cal y arena que te componen, bendigo el techo con me amparas y a mis seres queridos a partir de este momento no cruzará por esta puerta nada que sea diferente a la armonía y perfección de Dios manifestada en Amor puro, no entraran personas ni comidas desagradables, pido humilde y reverentemente a los ángeles de la llama Rosa, a todos los ángeles de la llama azul del Arcángel Miguel que vengan, vengan, vengan y envuelvan ésta mi casa querida, cada puerta y ventana para que cualquier espíritu encarnado o desencarnado que rose con éste manto de protección sagrada, sienta latir en su corazón el amor de Dios y pierda cualquier deseo de dañar la propiedad ajena, invito a todos los seres celestiales a entrar y formar parte de esta casa. A partir de ahora solo entrará el bien, el éxito y la opulencia, Gracias amados Ángeles gracias Padre que así es”. Con esto das por hecho que has colocado un sello de protección

¿Por qué es mudo el azur e insondable el espacio? ¿Por qué los astros de oro que hierven como arena? Si subiéramos más y más, allá arriba ¿qué habría? ¿Existe algún Pastor de este inmenso ganado de mundos trashumantes por el horrible espacio? Y estos mundos que el éter abraza inmensamente ¿vibran, acaso, al son de una llamada eterna? —¿El Hombre puede ver? ¿y decir: creo, creo? ¿La voz del pensamiento va más allá del sueño? Si en el nacer es raudo, si su vida es tan corta ¿de dónde viene el Hombre? ¿se abisma en el Océano profundo de los gérmenes, los Fetos, los Embriones, en el Crisol sin fondo del que la Madre cósmica lo resucitará, criatura que vive, para amar en la rosa y crecer en los trigos?… ¡No podemos saberlo! —¡Estamos agobiados por un oscuro manto de ignorancia y quimeras! ¡Farsas de hombre, caídos de las vulvas maternas, nuestra razón, tan pálida, nos vela el infinito! ¡Si queremos mirar, la Duda nos castiga! ¡La duda, triste pájaro, nos hiere con sus alas!… —¡Y en una huida eterna huyen los horizontes!

The soldiers had been entrenched in their positions for several weeks but there was little, if any fighting, except for the dozen rounds they ritually exchanged every day. The weather was extremely pleasant. The air was heavy with the scent of wildflowers and nature seem to be following its course, quite unmindful of the soldiers hiding behind rocks and camouflaged by mountain shrubbery. The birds sang as they always had and the flowers were in bloom. Bees buzzed about lazily. Only when a shot rang out, the birds got startled and took flight, as if a musician had struck a jarring note on his instrument. It was almost the end of September, neither hot nor cold. It seemed as if summer and winter had made their peace. In the blue skies, cotton clouds floated all day like barges on a lake. The soldiers seemed to be getting tired of this indecisive war where nothing much ever happened. Their positions were quite impregnable. The two hills on which they were placed faced each other and were about the same height, so no one side had an advantage. Down below in the valley, a stream zigzagged furiously on its stony bed like a snake. The air force was not involved in the combat and neither of the adversaries had heavy guns or mortars. At night, they would light huge fires and hear each other's voices echoing through the hills. From The Dog of Titwal, a short story.

El aliento del mar fue alejando lentamente la marea de la orilla, y dejó la arena lisa y espejeante bajo las estrellas. Las algas mojadas, enmarañadas, plagadas de insectos. Las dunas agrupadas y tranquilas, el viento frío combando la hierba. El camino asfaltado que subía de la playa en silencio ahora, cubierto por una capa de arena blanca; un brillo tenue sobre los techos curvos de las caravanas; los coches aparcados, formas oscuras y agazapadas sobre la hierba. Y luego la feria, el quiosco de helados con la persiana bajada, y siguiendo la calle, ya en el pueblo, la oficina de correos, el hotel, el restaurante. El Sailor’s Friend, con las puertas cerradas, pegatinas ilegibles en las ventanas. La estela de los faros de un único coche al pasar. Las luces traseras rojas como ascuas. Más allá, una hilera de casas, las ventanas reflejando impasibles la luz de las farolas, los cubos de basura alineados enfrente, y luego la carretera de la costa que salía del pueblo, silenciosa, desierta, los árboles alzándose por entre la oscuridad. El mar hacia el oeste, una extensión de manto negro. Y al este, cruzando la verja, la antigua rectoría, de un azul lechoso. Dentro, cuatro cuerpos durmiendo, despertando, durmiendo otra vez. De lado, o tumbados de espaldas, sacudiéndose las colchas con los pies, cruzando de sueño en sueño en silencio. Y ya por detrás de la casa empezaba a salir el sol. En los muros traseros y entre las ramas de los árboles, entre las hojas coloridas de los árboles y la hierba verde y húmeda, se filtra la luz del alba. Mañana de verano. Agua fría y clara en el hueco de la mano.

The Gospel--with its exclusively spiritual, hence in a sense extra-social, morality--says not one word about war; the Koran on the contrary regulates it; be that as it may, the Christian conquerors of the Moors were far more pitiless and intolerant than the Moors who conquered the Christians. Muslims see a mark of "hypocrisy" in such disproportions whereas Christians reproach Muslims for the "down-to-earth" quality of their morality; Muslims will say that morality should be socially effective, to which Christians will reply that it should be a spiritual ideal, and so on. If we mention these things, it is not with the intention of depicting an irresolvable polemic but in order to show the inevitable interplay of compensations that regulates the entire human order, just as it does the entire cosmic order. No truth is ever responsible for human frailties; no truth can neutralize them completely in collective life. In order to forestall certain objections let us add that those modern Europeans who dominate--or have dominated--Muslim peoples are clearly no longer representatives of Christianity; they represent a civilization that necessarily involves a certain humanitarianism by virtue of its religious indifference, its over-estimation of earthly comfort, and its idolatrous worship of the human animal; but the only legitimate humanitarianism is that which takes account--to the extent this is possible, that is, in conformity with the nature of things--of human welfare in its entirety, hence above all man's spiritual well-being; when this is neglected or even rejected, all the treasures of the earth cease to have any value. Unfortunately it is impossible for man--especially collective man--to concentrate his efforts simultaneously on all the dimensions of what is true and good.

Se distinguían ya entre el polvo, pintados en el manto de los ponis, galones y manos y soles nacientes y pájaros y peces de todas clases como una obra vieja descubierta bajo el apresto de un lienzo y ahora se podía oír también sobre el retumbo de los cascos sin herrar el sonido de las quenas, esas flautas hechas con huesos humanos, y en la compañía algunos habían empezado a recular en sus monturas y otros a girar desorientados cuando del lado izquierdo de los ponis surgió una horda de lanceros y arqueros a caballo cuyos escudos adornados con añicos de espejos arrojaban a los ojos de sus enemigos un millar de pequeños soles enteros. Una legión de horribles, cientos de ellos, medio desnudos o ataviados con trajes áticos o bíblicos o de un vestuario de pesadilla, con pieles de animales y con sedas y trozos de uniforme que aún tenían rastros de la sangre de sus anteriores dueños, capas de dragones asesinados, casacas del cuerpo de caballería con galones y alamares, uno con sombrero de copa y uno con un paraguas y uno más con medias blancas y un velo de novia sucio de sangre y varios con tocados de plumas de grulla o cascos de cuero en verde que lucían cornamentas de toro o de búfalo y uno con una levita puesta del revés y aparte de eso desnudo y uno con armadura de conquistador español, muy mellados el peto y las hombreras por antiguos golpes de maza o sable hechos en otro país por hombres cuyos huesos eran ya puro polvo, y muchos con sus trenzas empalmadas con pelo de otras bestias y arrastrando por el suelo y las orejas y colas de sus caballos adornadas con pedazos de tela de vistosos colores y uno que montaba un caballo con la cabeza pintada totalmente de escarlata y todos los jinetes grotescos y chillones con la cara embadurnada como un grupo de payasos a caballo, cómicos y letales, aullando en una lengua bárbara y lanzándose sobre ellos como una horda venida de un infierno más terrible aún que la tierra de azufre de cristiana creencia, dando alaridos y envueltos en humo como esos seres vaporosos de las regiones incognoscibles donde el ojo se extravía y el labio vibra y babea. Oh Dios, dijo el sargento.