Category Archive:versesidézetes

Nem is tudom,

joy post on November 19th, 2012
Posted in versesidézetes

“I don’t even know if I have the capacity for normal emotions or not because I haven’t cried for a long time. You just stifle them for so long that maybe you lose them, partially at least. I don’t know.”

Jeffrey Dahmer

Napkelte előtti köd

joy post on September 8th, 2012
Posted in versesidézetes Tags: ,

Úttestre

joy post on December 9th, 2011
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– Te mit csináltál az én koromban?

– Semmi jót. Esténként berúgtam, és kifeküdtem az úttestre, hátha elgázol valaki. De nem volt szerencsém.

– És más ötleted nem volt?

– Mindig az első lépés a legnehezebb.

– Igen. Minden annyira értelmetlennek tűnik.

– Meggyilkoltuk Isten fiát. Csak nem gondolod, hogy megbocsát majd nekünk. Lehet, hogy én őrült vagyok, de tudom, hogy ő nem az!

Bukowski: Forró vízi zene (Egy hideg éjszaka)

Bukowski: The suicide kid

joy post on December 7th, 2011
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I went to the worst of bars

hoping to get

killed.

but all I could do was to

get drunk

again.

worse, the bar patrons even

ended up

liking me.

there I was trying to get

pushed over the dark

edge

and I ended up with

free drinks

while somewhere else

some poor

son-of-a-bitch was in a hospital

bed,

tubes sticking out  all over

him

as he fought like hell

to live.

nobody would help me

die as

the drinks kept

coming,

as the next day

waited for me

with its steel clamps,

its stinking

anonymity,

its incogitant

attitude.

death doesn’t always

come running

when you call

it,

not even if you

call it

from a shining

castle

or from an ocean liner

or from the best bar

on earth (or the

worst).

such impertinence

only makes the gods

hesitate and

delay.

ask me: I’m

72.

joy post on October 31st, 2011
Posted in versesidézetes Tags:
“But I like the inconveniences.”
“We don’t,” said the Controller. “We prefer to do things comfortably.”
“But I don’t want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”
“In fact,” said Mustapha Mond, “you’re claiming the right to be unhappy.”
“All right then,” said the Savage defiantly, “I’m claiming the right to be unhappy.”
“Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen to-morrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind.” There was a long silence.

 

“I claim them all,” said the Savage at last.
Mustapha Mond shrugged his shoulders. “You’re welcome,” he said.


Huxley- Brave New World  Chapter 17

 

“I say,” Helmholtz exclaimed solicitously, “you do look ill, John!”
“Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you?” asked Bernard.
The Savage nodded. “I ate civilization.”

***

“Savage!” called the first arrivals, as they alighted from their machine. “Mr. Savage!”
There was no answer.
The door of the lighthouse was ajar. They pushed it open and walked into a shuttered twilight. Through an archway on the further side of the room they could see the bottom of the staircase that led up to the higher floors. Just under the crown of the arch dangled a pair of feet.

 

Huxley- Brave New World  Chapter 18

Saramago: Káin

joy post on July 29th, 2011
Posted in versesidézetes

“Az is igaz, hogy ádám időről időre odaszólt évának, Menjünk, s ismerjük meg egymást, de a megszokásba szürkülő házasélet, melyet esetükben az is súlyosbított, hogy tapasztalatlanságukban mindig ugyanabban a testhelyzetben történt meg az egyesülés, már azokban az időkben is olyan pusztító volt, mintha szúvak serege rágná a ház gerendáit.”

J. Saramago: Káin

joy post on January 6th, 2010
Posted in versesidézetes

Nem volna szabad megengedi, hogy a szerelem lelkiállapotában bárki életre szóló döntést hozzon.

nietzsche

Max Jacob: Error of Mercy

joy post on July 5th, 2009
Posted in versesidézetes Tags: ,
Max Jacob:

 
 
Errors of Mercy

I'll go to prison with him rather than see him get away.
And it was done! We're in a massive tower. One night
in my sleep I reached out to restrain him and touched
nothing but a white foot on its way to the ceiling. Now
I'm alone here by a window in the tower. From the top
of their massive haywagons the peasants gaze at me
with merciful eyes.

Le cornet à dés

 

 

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