Quoted Citations Quotes

Tine-ma aici cat vrei,si cand nu ma mai vrei,spune-mi sa ma duc

Speaking one’s mind once is more honorable than quoting a thousand men.

Do you imagine that they're going to issue me a citation...what was your name again?" "Still Eve." "No, I'm sure it's something else. That doesn't seem right.

Takva je ljubav. Ona može da uništi čoveka, i nanovo ga podigne i preporodi. Danas može da voli mene, sutra tebe, a već sutra uveče nekog stranca, toliko je nestalna. Ali može i da bude čvrsta kao nesalomljiv pečat, može neugasivo da plamti do samrtnog časa.

Une fois qu'on a tout fait comme il faut, il arrive parfois que les choses tournent mal. Mais il faut persister, c'est ça la clé.

[An example of misattribution:] If you don’t know the source of a quote, you can always make it sound better by attributing it to me. — Mark Twain

Londres par une journée sombre et pluvieuse est toujours mieux que Paris par une journée claire et ensoleillée.

Si vous aimez vraiment quelqu'un et souhaitez construire une relation fructueuse avec lui, soyez ouvert l'un envers l'autre, soyez réel l'un envers l'autre et accordez-vous beaucoup d'espace, de temps séparé et de liberté.

Le monde appartient À la femme africaine combattante, Ambitieuse, éduquée et indépendante. À celle qui ne craint ni la douleur ni la solitude. À celle qui, vêtue d'un esprit de tonnerre, Équipée de sang de guerrière, Éffraie l'échec.

For the most difficult way to be retweeted, or, liked: be thought-provoking. For the easiest way: quote Oprah, or, the Bible.

My bones are my unique home.

Hranimo se ponosom i tako siti se razilazimo.

Tu crois encore secrètement que la magie existe dans ce monde ? Erreur, le monde n'est qu'un amas de molécules sans âmes qui se cognent les unes aux autres au hasard.

„— Ei şi?", citat din d. Nae Ionescu

COMEDIAN: [...] What is it you do for a living? HECKLER: I mind my own business. COMEDIAN: Self-employed, eh? No really, what do you do? HECKLER: I try not to "do.

Celui qui a mille amis, n'a en fait aucun ami.

Sous un ciel étoilé On ne peut qu’aimer la vie.

Mes pensées sont des étoiles qui ne veulent plus former de constellation.

La mort, ce sombre fantôme, est assise sur son bras vigoureux : ce bras se lève, retombe, et alors les hommes meurent.

Je ne sais combien de temps encore je pourrais encaisser, combien de fois encore mon coeur supporterait d'être piétiné.

La renommée est une arme à double tranchant: elle peut vous faire gagner en statut et en POPULARITÉ, mais aussi vous faire perdre en motivation et en CRÉATIVITÉ.

De citit, citeam la întîmplare, pe apucate, şi n-am studiat nimic serios. Singura mea specialitate adevărată era plictiseala pe care mi-o provoca învăţătura sistematică. Îmi pregăteam însă cu grijă totdeauna cîteva citate pe care la momentul oportun le debitam ca din întîmplare, ca să forţez o impresie favorabilă; şi au fost cîţiva profesori care s-au lăsat înşelaţi, ba chiar au văzut în mine o speranţă, ceea ce mă făcea să rîd în sinea mea cu recunoştinţă deoarece, sărmanii de ei, îmi dădeau fără voie încredere în capacitatea mea de escroc; cel puţin la acest capitol nu eram cu desăvîrşire mediocru; învăţasem ceva din războiul cu tata, din lecţia dură a şcolii de corecţie şi din ipocrizia bine însuşită la spital. Azi nu mă mai mir decît de curajul şi luciditatea cu care am constatat atunci că nu eram bun de nimic. Cum am ajuns să-mi pierd ulterior această luciditate e aproape o taină pentru mine. La Belle Arte îmi spuneam aproape cu satisfacţie: "Avantajul meu faţă de ceilalţi mediocri, şi slavă Domnului nu sînt deloc singur, e important: eu ştiu! De aceea ei vor fi mereu în inferioritate faţă de mine". Şi totuşi am uitat asta. Singura explicaţie pe care mi-o dau e că în orice ins mediocru există primejdia de a se crede într-o bună zi genial.

Plus grands sont les amours, plus courte est la mémoire Vous l’avez oublié, nous en sommes tous là ; Le cœur le plus aimant n’est qu’une vaste armoire. On fait deux tours, et puis voilà.

Ah Buddha, you boastful charlatan. You may have learned nothing after 6 years of suffering, but then what of 7 years? What of 17? What might you have learned from a lifetime of pain? [...] From what I can tell, the wisest man in all these scriptures was the first person Buddha ever tried to teach - an Ajivika named Upaka. Buddha bragged to him of how he achieved nirvana, to which Upaka simply replied: "That may be so," and walked away.

Anything you try to quantify can be divided into any number of "anythings," or become the thing - the unit - itself. And what is any number, itself, but just another unit of measurement? What is a 'six' but two 'threes', or three 'twos'...half a 'twelve', or just six 'ones' - which are what? (attrib: F.L. Vanderson)

As these quotations are examined and exposed, it will become quite clear that those Jesus mythicists citing the Church Fathers in such a fashion are not competent students on the subject of Christianity's origins. They have merely copied accusations from less than reliable sources without concern for whether their citations were interpreted properly or even existed. Nor have they ever bothered investigating the responses given by Christian apologists to these quotes. That it attacks Christianity is enough for them.

Les au revoir font encore plus de mal quand l'autre est déjà parti.

Tu peux très bien être courageuse et avoir peur quand même, Starr, dit-elle. Etre courageuse, ça veut dire ne pas se laisser abattre par sa peur. Et c'est ce que tu fais.

Tout ce qui est horrible porte un versant magnifique

The more we try to stop others from falling, the more we hurt ourselves.

If only stupid people could have the mere intelligence to shut up while discussing serious matter, the world would go along so much better !

La peur vient de vos parents et d'autres membres de votre entourage. Ce sont eux qui la construisent en vous. On est tellement innocent au début; on ne sait pas

Il sentit son corps se scinder en deux, devenir chaleur et froidure, tendresse et dureté, tremblement et impassibilité, chaque moitié grinçant contre l'autre.

Smrt roditelja je poznanstvo sa prvom pravom zastrašujućom samoćom.

L'échec, ce serait de ne pas souffrir. Parce que ça voudrait dire qu'on a rien éprouvé.

If you think you've never lived up to a situation, you have your own story or you will be the hero.

Know that the days that are alike are only the illusion of a reality created by your mind.

It takes you 5 years to build your reputation, but 5 minutes to ruin it.

Dreams are not just dreams, because each of them can become reality.

I sincerely believe that patience is one of the keys to success.

« Nous nous chérirons nuit et jour : « Nos âmes sont deux fleurs d’amour, « Nos lèvres deux calices. »

souvenez-vous des blessures dont son corps est couvert, comme un cimetière hérissé de tombeaux.

Ne comptez pas sur quiconque en ce bas monde. Même votre ombre vous quitte quand vous êtes dans l'obscurité.

Il ne faut jamais confondre courage et témérité. Le vrai courage, c'est d'affronter ses peurs pour bien agir.

Nous avions toutes besoin d'être désirées, parce que le désir des hommes vous fait exister plus fort.

Ouais, les gens nous laissent tomber, Bri. Mais ça veut pas dire qu'on est seuls.

Jay aime les gens. Moi je suis plutôt du genre "OK, ils existent, mais je suis pas obligée de leur parler

Les bons et les mauvais souvenirs ont en commun de rester gravés.

Je crois passionnément que, si on possède la fin de créer, on n'a pas le droit de se tuer parce qu'il est de votre devoir de partager ce son avec autrui.

Au début, la douleur était atroce, puis elle s'est dissipée. La douleur était comme un mur que j'avais franchi, passant de l'autre côté.

Parler de lui au présent c'était le ranger du côté des vivants. Et s'il était vivant, alors je n'étais pas tout à fait morte.

Jedina vrednost koja postoji na svetu jeste vreme. Jedna sekunda je uvek sekunda, i o tome nema pregovora.

Kakve god bile naše muke i naše pobede, kako god ih mi propratili, sve one vrlo brzo izblede, kao mastilo na papiru.

C'est amusant de voir comment les gens choisissent de croire en la magie, les miracles, le destin et toutes sortes de superstitions, mais pas en eux-mêmes!

He flaunted obnoxious feats of memory by quoting page numbers and passages back in class and correcting his teachers on their text citations.14 “You forgot the comma,” he said to one.15

C’est ça, le lycée : la course à qui fera le plus de mal aux autres. À qui s’autodétruira le mieux. Être cruel, c’est tellement rock’n’roll. S’avouer malheureux, par contre... Moche, pas vrai ?

La contemporanéité se fait une spécialité d'un genre de bataille au cour desquelles personne ne perd de trésors ,si ce n'est sans doute la vie." {citation tirée du livre : Nos étoiles contraires}

- Respire. J'y arrive pas. C'est comme si mon corps savait même plus ce que ça voulait dire, mais il connaît encore le verbe pleurer. Des larmes coulent sur mes joues. Les sanglots me font hoqueter.

Don't most astrophysicists now predict some "end of the line" - an end to it all? Not just the death of things, but the annihilation of everything. Some great contraction, or collapse. Or, perhaps, some vast dissipation into eternal emptiness. Maybe it's all swallowed up by an immense black hole, which then swallows itself. But, whatever the case, their extinction is inevitable and absolute. So complete as to erase any and all evidence that this reality - this existence - ever took place. So complete that, perhaps, for all intents and purposes, it never really did. (attrib: F.L. Vanderson)

On je uvijek tražio od čovjeka da mu čini velike usluge. Uzmite takvog veoma lijepog mladića, ili nekog tko za sebe misli kako je u svemu glavni, i te stvari, takvi će ljudi od vas vječito tražiti da im činite velike usluge. Samo zbog toga što je takav čovjek lud za samim sobom, on misli kako ste i vi ludi za njim i kako umirete od želje da mu na svaki mogući način ugodite. To je pomalo smiješno, u jednu ruku.

Et que faudrait-il faire ? Chercher un protecteur puissant, prendre un patron, Et comme un lierre obscur qui circonvient un tronc Et s'en fait un tuteur en lui léchant l'écorce, Grimper par ruse au lieu de s'élever par force ? Non, merci ! Dédier, comme tous ils le font, Des vers aux financiers ? se changer en bouffon Dans l'espoir vil de voir, aux lèvres d'un ministre, Naître un sourire, enfin, qui ne soit pas sinistre ? Non, merci ! Déjeuner, chaque jour, d'un crapaud ? Avoir un ventre usé par la marche ? une peau Qui plus vite, à l'endroit des genoux, devient sale ? Exécuter des tours de souplesse dorsale ?... Non, merci ! D'une main flatter la chèvre au cou Cependant que, de l'autre, on arrose le chou, Et donneur de séné par désir de rhubarbe, Avoir son encensoir, toujours, dans quelque barbe ? Non, merci ! Se pousser de giron en giron, Devenir un petit grand homme dans un rond, Et naviguer, avec des madrigaux pour rames, Et dans ses voiles des soupirs de vieilles dames ? Non, merci ! Chez le bon éditeur de Sercy Faire éditer ses vers en payant ? Non, merci ! S'aller faire nommer pape par les conciles Que dans des cabarets tiennent des imbéciles ? Non, merci ! Travailler à se construire un nom Sur un sonnet, au lieu d'en faire d'autres ? Non, Merci ! Ne découvrir du talent qu'aux mazettes ? Être terrorisé par de vagues gazettes, Et se dire sans cesse : "Oh ! pourvu que je sois Dans les petits papiers du Mercure François" ?... Non, merci ! Calculer, avoir peur, être blême, Préférer faire une visite qu'un poème, Rédiger des placets, se faire présenter ? Non, merci ! non, merci ! non, merci ! Mais... chanter, Rêver, rire, passer, être seul, être libre, Avoir l'œil qui regarde bien, la voix qui vibre, Mettre, quand il vous plaît, son feutre de travers, Pour un oui, pour un non, se battre, - ou faire un vers ! Travailler sans souci de gloire ou de fortune, À tel voyage, auquel on pense, dans la lune ! N'écrire jamais rien qui de soi ne sortît, Et modeste d'ailleurs, se dire : mon petit, Sois satisfait des fleurs, des fruits, même des feuilles, Si c'est dans ton jardin à toi que tu les cueilles ! Puis, s'il advient d'un peu triompher, par hasard, Ne pas être obligé d'en rien rendre à César, Vis-à-vis de soi-même en garder le mérite, Bref, dédaignant d'être le lierre parasite, Lors même qu'on n'est pas le chêne ou le tilleul, Ne pas monter bien haut, peut-être, mais tout seul !

Après tout, on vit à l'époque des Kleenex. On fait avec les gens comme avec les mouchoirs, on froisse après usage, on jette, on en prend un autre, on se mouche, on froisse, on jette. Tout le monde se sert des basques du voisin.

Je vous ai ouï dire que l’honneur et la politique, comme deux amis inséparables, marchaient de compagnie à la guerre. Eh bien ! dites-moi quel tort l’un fait à l’autre dans la paix, pour qu’ils ne s’y trouvent pas également unis ?

Perhaps the most powerful and appealing aspect of another's words, however, is simply their convenience. Whether distilled in the briefest apophthegm, or spread out across some voluminous tome, the thought is ready-made, the heavy lifting done. It's there to be used like a weapon or tool, and as time wanders on, seemingly leaving us fewer and fewer new things to say, it becomes ever more useful. As technology moves forward, as well, it also becomes much easier. Indeed, in this "information age" where so much is available to so many so quickly that enlightenment nearly verges on light pollution, it can sometimes appear that expression has been reduced to nothing more than a mad race to unearth and claim references. As such, the citation is also there to be donned, like some article of fashion from which we may reap the praise of discriminating taste without ever exerting ourself in the actual toil of manufacture.

Believe in your dreams and never give up on your passions, never give up even in spite of the difficulty and the unforeseen, or despite the mistakes that you will make, if you persist in the evolution of your dreams, life will reward you.

Pendant que certains et certaines parmi nous ont peur de l'impact que des chansons pourraient avoir sur nos enfants, d'autres parents sont terrifiés à l'idée que ceux et celles qui sont censés protéger leurs enfants pourrait leur faire du mal.

Postoje ljubavi koje su kao kada Narcis uđe u Dvoranu ogledala u Versaju. Postoje i ljubavi koje su lišene svakog narcisizma, egoizma i razmišljanja isključivo o sebi. Postoje ljubavne priče koje ne deluju toliko snažno, a njihova lepota se krije u tome da dvoje postanu jedno.

Police throughout the United States have been caught fabricating, planting, and manipulating evidence to obtain convictions where cases would otherwise be very weak. Some authorities regard police perjury as so rampant that it can be considered a "subcultural norm rather than an individual aberration" of police officers. Large-scale investigations of police units in almost every major American city have documented massive evidence of tampering, abuse of the arresting power, and discriminatory enforcement of laws. There also appears to be widespread police perjury in the preparation of reports because police know these reports will be used in plea bargaining. Officers often justify false and embellished reports on the grounds that it metes out a rough justice to defendants who are guilty of wrongdoing but may be exonerated on technicalities. [internal citations omitted]

Les hommes méconnaissent bien des choses. Une jeune fille préférera toujours un homme malheureux, parce que toute jeune fille est tentée par un amour actif… Tu comprends ? Actif ! Les hommes sont trop occupés, l’amour pour eux est une chose de troisième plan. Bavarder avec sa femme, se promener avec elle au jardin, verser quelques larmes sur sa tombe – c’est tout. Et pour nous, l’amour est la vie même. Je t’aime, cela signifie que je cherche à dissiper ta tristesse, que je veux te suivre au bout du monde… Tu escalades une montagne, je l’escalade avec toi, tu descends dans un ravin, je descends avec toi.

Matthew and I had to get out of town quickly, that's all. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." "Where we're you?" "In 1590." "Did you get any research done?" Chris looked thoughtful. "I suppose that would cause all kinds of citations problems. What would you put in your footnotes? Personal conversation with William Shakespeare'?

Espèce douée d’intelligence... Tu parles ! Faut voir ce qu’on en fait de notre gros cerveau : on sait aller sur la lune et on a le matériel pour faire sauter la planète en quelques secondes, mais la moitié de la popu- lation crève de faim et on ne peut toujours pas soigner le cancer. L’humain, c’est de la grosse saloperie.

How We Approach the New Testament We Christians have been taught to approach the Bible in one of eight ways: • You look for verses that inspire you. Upon finding such verses, you either highlight, memorize, meditate upon, or put them on your refrigerator door. • You look for verses that tell you what God has promised so that you can confess it in faith and thereby obligate the Lord to do what you want. • You look for verses that tell you what God commands you to do. • You look for verses that you can quote to scare the devil out of his wits or resist him in the hour of temptation. • You look for verses that will prove your particular doctrine so that you can slice-and-dice your theological sparring partner into biblical ribbons. (Because of the proof-texting method, a vast wasteland of Christianity behaves as if the mere citation of some random, decontextualized verse of Scripture ends all discussion on virtually any subject.) • You look for verses in the Bible to control and/or correct others. • You look for verses that “preach” well and make good sermon material. (This is an ongoing addiction for many who preach and teach.) • You sometimes close your eyes, flip open the Bible randomly, stick your finger on a page, read what the text says, and then take what you have read as a personal “word” from the Lord. Now look at this list again. Which of these approaches have you used? Look again: Notice how each is highly individualistic. All of them put you, the individual Christian, at the center. Each approach ignores the fact that most of the New Testament was written to corporate bodies of people (churches), not to individuals.

On ne trahit pas les disparus. Ce sont eux qui nous trahissent. Parce qu'ils ont fait défaut, parce qu'ils sont partis, alors qu'on avait besoin d'eux, parce qu'ils ont filé sans préavis, parce qu'ils nous laissent avec le manque et aucune solution pour y remédier. Et quand ils ont lâché notre main, qui nous en voudrait d'en saisir une autre ?

A ce moment-là, Maxim me regarda enfin. Il me regarda pour la première fois de la soirée et, dans ses yeux, je lus un message d'adieu. C'était comme s'il se penchait au bastingage d'un navire, et que je me tenais en contrebas sur le quai. Il y avait d'autres gens qui touchaient son épaule et qui touchaient la mienne, mais nous ne les remarquions pas. Nous ne nous parlions pas et ne nous hélions pas, car le vent et la distance emportaient le son de nos voix. Mais je vis ses yeux, tout comme lui vit les miens, avant que le navire se détache du quai. Favell, Mme Danvers, le colonel Julyan, Frank avec son bout de papier à la main, tous furent oubliés à cet instant-là. Cet instant-là était le nôtre, inviolé, communion éphémère entre nos deux êtres.

Aimer un esprit, voilà le véritable martyre. Le désespoir incarné. Le nom de Donna ne serait imprimé sur aucune page, il n'apparaîtrait nulle part dans les annales de l'humanité. Disparue sans laisser d'adresse. Il y a des filles comme ça, et c'est celles-là qu'on aime le plus, celles qui ne permettent pas d'espérer, car elles vous échappent alors même que vous refermer vos bras autour d'elles.

The New Testament quotes from the Psalter more often than from any other Old Testament book. • Of the 283 direct quotes of the Old Testament in the New, 116 (41 percent) are from the Psalms.5 • The Psalms are used more than fifty times in the Gospels to allude to the person and work of Jesus Christ.6 • When the author of Hebrews sought biblical proof that Jesus was God, at least seven of his citations were from the book of Psalms.

Then there is the cosmologist, who views himself as nothing but a manipulation of atoms; his mind configured out of randomness into the tool a vast, blind universe might use to perceive itself. If this is so then truly "all is vanity". What could be more pleasing to the cosmic narcissist than to gaze eternally with a billion eyes into the mirror that is himself? What fault, however, if certain eyes ultimately don’t like what they see?

On doit tous être pareils. Nous ne naissons pas libres et égaux, comme le proclame la Constitution, on nous rend égaux. Chaque homme doit être l'image de l'autre, comme ça, tout le monde est content; plus de montagnes pour les intimider, leur donner un point de comparaison. Conclusion ! Un livre est un fusil chargé dans la maison d'à côté. Brûlons-le. Déchargeons l'arme. Battons en brèche l'esprit humain. Qui sait qui pourrait être la cible de l'homme cultivé ?

Sreća je osećanje za decu i životinje, i nedostajaje joj biološka funkcija. Srećni ljudi ne stvaraju ništa, njihov svet je lišen umetnosti, muzike i oblakodera, kao i otkrića i inovacija. Sve vođe, svi vaši junaci su bili opsesivni. Srećni ljudi nisu opsesivni, oni ne posvećuju svoje živote tome da izleče neku bolest ili uzdignu avion u vazduh. Srećni ne ostavljaju ništa za sobom. Oni žive samo da bi živeli, i prisutni su na ovom svetu samo kao konzumenti. Ja nisam takav.

Ma mère n'allait pas subitement recommencer à se soucier de moi. Elle n'aurait pas de révélation sur ses erreurs passées, elle ne me prendrait pas dans ses bras en me promettant de se rattraper. Elle refuserait de reconnaître sa part de responsabilité. Elle préfèrerait même l'enfouir six pieds sous terre. Elle me ferait des reproches. M'accuserait d'être égoïste, irresponsable, idiote, tous ces adjectifs dont on accable les adolescents abandonnés par leurs parents alors que, complètement brisés, ils hurlent en silence et se débrouillent tant bien que mal pour grandir malgré le trou béant qu'ont laissé les racines sur lesquelles ils auraient dû pouvoir s'appuyer.

pourquoi il n’y aurait pas de monde après le lycée ? – Parce que derrière les grilles du bahut, y a aucun destin fabuleux, style téléfilm à la con, qui nous attend. Juste cette salope de réalité, avec sa gueule d’acier qui va nous broyer. Mais j’irai pas manifester pour autant, et tu sais pourquoi ? Ils me font gerber, les pantins qui le font. Défiler bourré dans la rue, ça dérange les gens qui tra- vaillent, pas le gouvernement. Si ces imbéciles voulaient vraiment faire bouger les choses, ils retireraient leur fric de la banque, ils rendraient les clés de leur 60 m2 – qu’ils sont bien contents, d’ailleurs, de remplir de merdes Ikea – et ils iraient marcher sur l’Élysée flingue à la main.

FV: Hasn't all art, in a way, submitted to words - reduced itself to the literary...admitted its failure through all the catalogues and criticism, monographs and manifestos — ML: Explanations? FV: Exactly. All the artistry, now, seems expended in the rhetoric and sophistry used to differentiate, to justify its own existence now that so little is left to do. And who's to say how much of it ever needed doing in the first place? [...] Nothing's been done here but the re-writing of rules, in denial that the game was already won, long ago, by the likes of Duchamp, Arp, or Malevich. I mean, what's more, or, what's less to be said than a single black square? ML: Well, a triangle has fewer sides, I suppose. FV: Then a circle, a line, a dot. The rest is academic; obvious variations on an unnecessary theme, until you're left with just an empty canvas - which I'm sure has been done, too. ML: Franz Kline, wasn't it? Or, Yves Klein - didn't he once exhibit a completely empty gallery? No canvases at all. FV: I guess, from there, to not exhibit anything - to do absolutely nothing at all - would be the next "conceptual" act; the ultimate multimedia performance, where all artforms converge in negation and silence. And someone's probably already put their signature to that, as well. But even this should be too much, to involve an artist, a name. Surely nothing, done by no-one, is the greatest possible artistic achievement. Yet, that too has been done. Long, long ago. Before the very first artists ever walked the earth.

There are occasions, however, when even S holds a secret delight or two in the form of a pink, such as the one I found among the citations (or "cits" for short) for "sex kitten": sex kitten sex pot There is no essential difference in these defs [definitions], but they're not the same. Some differentiation shd be made. The pink was written by one of our former physical science editors infamous for commenting as brusquely as possible on things beyond his remit... Another one of our science editors who was reviewing the batch later was apparently irritated by this note, and decided to comment on what he no doubt saw as needless meddling. His typewritten response to the note about "sex kitten" reads, "I will no doubt regret saying this but I think you have misconstrued the meaning of 'physical' science somewhere along here." But a pink's a pink. Steve acted on it for the Tenth, adding the word "young" to the definition for "sex kitten.

As for karma itself, it is apparently only that which binds "jiva" (sentience, life, spirit, etc.) with "ajiva" (the lifeless, material aspect of this world) - perhaps not unlike that which science seeks to bind energy with mass (if I understand either concept correctly). But it is only through asceticism that one might shed his predestined karmic allotment. I suppose this is what I still don't quite understand in any of these shramanic philosophies, though - their end-game. Their "moksha", or "mukti", or "samsara". This oneness/emptiness, liberation/ transcendence of karma/ajiva, of rebirth and ego - of "the self", of life, of everything. How exactly would this state differ from any standard, scientific definition of death? Plain old death. Or, at most, if any experience remains, from what might be more commonly imagined/feared to be death - some dark perpetual existence of paralyzed, semi-conscious nothingness. An incessant dreamless sleep from which one never wakes? They all assure you, of course, that this will be no condition of endless torment, but rather one of "eternal bliss". Inexplicable, incommunicable "bliss", mind you, but "bliss" nonetheless. So many in the realm of science, too, seem to propagate a notion of "bliss" - only here, in this world, with the universe being some great amusement park of non-stop "wonder" and "discovery". Any truly scientific, unbiased examination of their "discoveries", though, only ever seems to reveal a world that simply just "is" - where "wonder" is merely a euphemism for ignorance, and learning is its own reward because, frankly, nothing else ever could be. Still, the scientist seeks to conquer this ignorance, even though his very happiness depends on it - offering only some pale vision of eternal dumbfoundedness, and endless hollow surprises. The shramana, on the other hand, offers total knowledge of this hollowness, all at once - renouncing any form of happiness or pleasure, here, to seek some other ultimate, unknowable "bliss", off in the beyond...

Beginning in 1519 and continuing until the end of his life, Luther expounded a theme that the Sacrament brings and means a fellowship of love and mercy: "This fellowship consists in this, that all the spiritual possessions of Christ and his saints are shared with and become the common property of him who receives this sacrament. Again all sufferings and sins also become common property; and thus love engenders love in return and [mutual love] unites . . . It is like a city where every citizen shares with all the others the city's name, honor, freedom, trade, customs, usages, help, support, protection, and the like, while at the same time he shares all the dangers of fire and flood, enemies and death, losses taxes and the like. For he who would share in the profits must also share in the costs, and ever recompense love with love . . ." For Luther, unity with respect to the Sacrament meant both doctrinal agreement and love. When the prerequisite to church fellowship is defined merely (however important!) in terms of doctrinal fellowship, it can end in a Platonic pursuit of a frigid and rigid mental ideal. Doctrinal unity, true unity in Christ's body and blood, is also a unity of deep love and mercy. If I will not lay down my burden on Christ and the community, or take up the burdens of others who come to the Table, then I should not go to the Sacrament. Close(d) Communion is also a fellowship of love and mercy with my brother and sister in Christ as Luther taught in the previous citation.

Boswell, like Lecky (to get back to the point of this footnote), and Gibbon before him, loved footnotes. They knew that the outer surface of truth is not smooth, welling and gathering from paragraph to shapely paragraph, but is encrusted with a rough protective bark of citations, quotations marks, italics, and foreign languages, a whole variorum crust of "ibid.'s" and "compare's" and "see's" that are the shield for the pure flow of argument as it lives for a moment in one mind. They knew the anticipatory pleasure of sensing with peripheral vision, as they turned the page, gray silt of further example and qualification waiting in tiny type at the bottom. (They were aware, more generally, of the usefulness of tiny type in enhancing the glee of reading works of obscure scholarship: typographical density forces you to crouch like Robert Hooke or Henry Gray over the busyness and intricacy of recorded truth.) They liked deciding as they read whether they would bother to consult a certain footnote or not, and whether they would read it in context, or read it before the text it hung from, as an hors d'oeuvre. The muscles of the eye, they knew, want vertical itineraries; the rectus externus and internus grow dazed waggling back and forth in the Zs taught in grade school: the footnote functions as a switch, offering the model-railroader's satisfaction of catching the march of thought with a superscripted "1" and routing it, sometimes at length, through abandoned stations and submerged, leaching tunnels. Digression—a movement away from the gradus, or upward escalation, of the argument—is sometimes the only way to be thorough, and footnotes are the only form of graphic digression sanctioned by centuries of typesetters. And yet the MLA Style Sheet I owned in college warned against lengthy, "essay-like" footnotes. Were they nuts? Where is scholarship going?

Dar știți, ceea ce mă-ntristează cel mai mult e că n-o să vină nimeni la înmormântare. Eu eram unica lui familie, și n-am știut pe cine să anunț. E ciudat, însă tocmai asta mă face să fiu cel mai trist, cu adevărat trist. Nu neapărat moartea lui, cât această idee că nu va fi nimeni la înmormântare. Vă imaginați? Groaznic, nu? — Da, cu siguranță. Nu știu ce să vă spun. — Pot să vă-ntreb ceva? — Da. — Dumneavoastră unde mergeți? Pentru că poate... Dacă n-o să fiți prea departe mâine, ați putea... poate... în fine... e ridicol... — Da, vreau să vin, am spus eu fără să stau pe gânduri. Chipul acestui om mă impresiona, la fel și perspectiva de a avea ceva de făcut. Când te afli într-un abis al lumii, să mergi la o înmormântare e ca un colac de salvare. A părut încântat, ba chiar emoționat. Poate că aveam să devenim prieteni? Pe țărmurile nefericirii există toate condițiile ca să ai parte de întâlniri decisive. — Chiar o să faceți asta? Nu știu ce să vă spun! Ce bucuros o să fie tata! — ...? — În fine, asta i-ar fi făcut plăcere, cu siguranță.” “Vasele erau spălate, de exemplu; ne-am putea imagina că spălase vasele știind că avea să facă asta pentru ultima dată. Ce idee, nu-i așa? La ce bun să mai speli o farfurie, dacă știi că după aceea o să mori? Poate că asta e culmea delicateții: să faci menajul înainte de a muri.” “Tatăl lui vindea cravate, iar el bărbierea gâturi. Vindea lame de ras pentru acea zonă a corpului pe care tatăl lui o avea în stăpânire. M-am gândit că, dacă ar avea la rându-i un fiu, acesta ar vinde ștreanguri. Erau o familie-gât și, generație după generație, lațul se strângea tot mai mult.” “Pe urmă, Bernard mi-a arătat colecția de cravate a tatălui lui. A deschis nenumărate valize, oftând: „E păcat, au rămas multe nevândute...“ Mi-l și imaginam pe sărmanul om zicând în agonie: „Ptiu, ce aiurea că mor, când mai am tot stocul ăsta de vânzare." Ne-am uitat la toate cravatele acelea cu o reală tristețe. Toate acele cravate orfane.

M-am gândit: data viitoare când mă îndrăgostesc, iau și numărul fetei de alături (nu se știe niciodată: poate că sunt predestinat să nu întâlnesc decât femei care stau fix lângă femeia vieții mele).” “Și pe timpul nopții o să ne punem protezele dentare amândoi în același pahar. Dinții noștri vor fi fericiți împreună.” “Noi nu suntem fericiți când suntem împreună. Și e și mai rău când suntem departe unul de altul. Nu mai pot. Trebuie să găsești o soluție.” “Nu mai puteam suporta să fiu asociat cu iepurele. Puțin îmi păsa mie de iepuri. îmi plăceau multe lucruri în viață.” “Astăzi oamenii se despart pentru fleacuri. Până ce moartea vă va despărți, se zice! în ziua de azi, moartea este fie și cel mai mic defect al celuilalt...” “Am mers la Ikea, și ne-am și certat la Ikea. în acest magazin mare, ar trebui să angajeze un consilier conjugal. Fiindcă, dacă există un loc în care inima cuplurilor se dezvăluie, acela este Ikea. Mă întreb chiar dacă nu cumva toată acea mobilă de asamblat nu este decât un pretext pentru a semăna zâzania sentimentală. Sunt aproape sigur că fondatorul magazinului Ikea trebuie să fi fost un suedez depresiv (e aproape un pleonasm), fără viață afectivă, care a găsit mijlocul de a o distruge și pe a altora. Toți studenții la sociologie ar trebui să meargă să facă un stagiu acolo, ar găsi de toate.” “— Uitați-vă la mobila asta. Fritz a montat-o! M-au privit dintr-odată cu o admirație excesivă. Aveam impresia că sunt Gustave Eiffel.” “— Stingem lumina peste tot. îi facem pe părinții mei să creadă că ăsta e un obicei al blocului. Și zicem că în Polonia chiar există obiceiul să faci pe mortul în pauza dintre două feluri de mâncare.” “Voiam să fiu acceptat undeva, să am obiceiuri, să petrec duminici insuportabile poate, dar duminici sigure.” “Nu mă deranjează că vă certați în timpul lecției mele, dar cel mai bine ar fi să faceți asta în germană. Alice a ezitat o clipă (chipul ei era precum al cuiva care așteaptă pe un peron), apoi s-a apucat să mă insulte în germană. Toate astea nu prea aveau nimic în comun cu Goethe. În oricare altă împrejurare, aș fi apreciat cu siguranță această agitație germanică, dar în acel moment mă simțeam depășit. M-am așezat pe canapea și am ascultat-o pe femeia aceea cum mă înjură într-o limbă pe care nu o înțelegeam. Lângă ea, un tânăr lua notițe. Ca să reacționez cumva, m-am gândit în ce limbă aș fi putut da replica. Știam destule cuvinte în limbi străine, însă atât. M-am gândit să contraatac într-un amestec de daneză și croată, dar până la urmă am optat pentru un pic de polonă. Totuși, singura frază care-mi venea în minte era: „Știți cumva unde se află hotelul?" Mă îndoiam că această glumă poloneză ar fi putut să echilibreze forțele. Eram invadat și nu aveam altă opțiune decât să capitulez. întotdeauna se-ntâmpla la fel. Această scenă a avut măcar meritul de a ne fi destins. Poate că ar trebui să ne certăm mereu într-o limbă străină. Benoît ne privea atent; cu siguranță îi ofeream o imagine jalnică a cuplului.

C'est une faute que de désirer être compris avant de s'être élucidé soi-même à ses propres yeux. C'est rechercher des plaisirs dans l'amitié, et non mérités. C'est quelque chose de plus corrupteur que l'amour. Tu vendrais ton âme pour l'amitié. Apprends à repousser l'amitié, ou plutôt le rêve de l'amitié. Désirer l'amitié est une grande faute. L'amitié doit être une joie gratuite comme celles que donne l'art, ou la vie. Il faut la refuser pour être digne de la recevoir : elle est de l'ordre de la grâce ("Mon Dieu, éloignez-vous de moi..."). Elle est de ces choses qui sont données par surcroît. Tout rêve d'amitié mérite d'être brisé. Ce n'est pas par hasard que tu n'as jamais été aimée... Désirer échapper à la solitude est une lâcheté. L'amitié ne se recherche pas, ne se rêve pas, ne se désire pas ; elle s'exerce (c'est une vertu). Abolir toute cette marge de sentiment, impure et trouble. Schluss !

Les Pharisiens étaient des gens qui comptaient sur leur propre force pour être vertueux. L'humilité consiste à savoir qu'en ce qu'on nomme "je" il n'y a aucune source d'énergie qui permette de s'élever. Tout ce qui est précieux en moi, sans exception, vient d'ailleurs que de moi, non pas comme don mais comme prêt qui doit être sans cesse renouvelé. Tout ce qui est en moi, sans exception, est absolument sans valeur ; et, parmi les dons venus d'ailleurs, tout ce que je m'approprie devient aussitôt sans valeur. La joie parfaite exclut le sentiment même de joie, car dans l'âme emplie par l'objet, nul coin n'est disponible pour dire "je". On n'imagine pas de telles joies quand elles sont absentes, ainsi le stimulant manque pour les chercher.

« Être engagé », c’est un concept bidon. C’est balancer des citations cyniques sur les réseaux sociaux, basta. Parce que quand on a la santé, un toit au-dessus de la tête et un boulot, on a trop à perdre pour se mouiller. On est une génération de résignés. On sait qu’on a perdu la partie, alors tout ce qu’on trouve à faire, c’est pester contre les règles.

În viziunea mea, scrisul este cea mai frumoasă "meserie" existentă, cel puțin la acest nivel de conștiință la care se află omenirea în prezent. De ce? Pentru că folosește "cuvântul". Iar cuvintele adevărate vin din suflet. Dacă folosești cuvintele corect, acestea te vor readuce, în cele din urmă, înapoi în suflet.

Ceea ce numește lumea "imaginație" nu este o combinație aleatorie de lucruri și evenimente născocite de minte, ci este chiar descrierea realității în care trăiești de la un alt nivel de conștiință.

La question de l'usage des citations se pose pour toute personne qui écrit et publie. Citer, c'est rendre hommage à ce qui a été déjà pensé. Ce n'est pas se dissimuler derrière ses citations, c'est prendre place dans un cortège. Citer c'est aussi prendre des risques, accepter le conflit des interprétations. L'accepter honnêtement, sur la base de sources vérifiables. Et ceux qui ne citent pas, que font-ils ? Ils pillent. Ils "affirment", dans la pure satisfaction narcissique de valoriser leur ego. (Chroniques..)

Anonymous quotes are the unmarked graves of literature, and their lost, tragic authors its unknown soldiers.

The one that every lexicographer offers as proof is "antidisestablishmentarianism." It's a word plenty of people are familiar with, but most of our citational evidence for it is in lists of long words, not in running prose, and when it does appear in running prose, it appears in sentences like "'Antidisestablishmentarianism' is a long word." When tasked with prying meaning out of a bunch of citations like that, you quickly discover that "antidisestablishmentarianism" is rarely ascribed a meaning in text. It's not the only one. "Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis" - a word that puzzlers and lexicographers call "P45" - sure looks like and sounds like the name of a great disease, and it is entered in our Webster's New International Dictionary, Second Edition, but it does not have any meaningful use. In fact, it appears to have been coined by the president of the National Puzzler's League in 1935 just to see if dictionaries would fall for it. We did. We're a little more careful now.

T'as le goût de crier que tu te sens pas bien. Qu'on t'a raconté un gros mensonge. Que ça rend pas heureuse. Être mince. Être belle. Que c'est toujours à recommencer. Que c'est jamais assez. Que c'est débile. C'est débile. Le moule. Fitter.

Peut-être que tout ce dont nous avons besoin est d’envisager cette chose (grandiose) et de prendre Dieu au mot!

Om människor var som byggnader skulle jag vara i renoveringsbehov.

Och tydligen krävdes bara fyra ord för att börja berätta om mammor som dog, pappor som gick sönder och om känslan av att stå ensam och blicka ut på en framtid som borde vara ljus, men som i stället bestod av falnande kol och aska.