Schlagwort: quote

The world we knew has chan­ged

Eine Spinne in ihrem Netz“The world we knew has chan­ged
but we have to arran­ge.
The stron­gest rocks will crack
but the­re is no way back.
Not­hing worth any­mo­re
the things that we ado­re.
Our rules dis­ap­pear -
feel the upco­ming fear. (…)

They can’t destroy our past
our memo­ries will last.
What we are living for
does­n’t mat­ter any­mo­re.
We stay nevert­hel­ess
don’t lose self­con­cious­ness.”

[pho­to­phor, New Order]

Hearts full of mean­ness

Of The Empire

Kunststoff-Stühle im WaldWe will be known as a cul­tu­re that feared death and ado­red power, that tried to van­quish inse­cu­ri­ty for the few and cared litt­le for the pen­ury of the many. We will be known as a cul­tu­re that taught and reward­ed the amas­sing of things, that spo­ke litt­le if at all about the qua­li­ty of life for peo­p­le (other peo­p­le), for dogs, for rivers. All the world, in our eyes, they will say, was a com­mo­di­ty. And they will say that this struc­tu­re was held tog­e­ther poli­ti­cal­ly, which it was, and they will say also that our poli­tics was no more than an appa­ra­tus to accom­mo­da­te the fee­lings of the heart, and that the heart, in tho­se days, was small, and hard, and full of mean­ness.

© 2008 by Mary Oli­ver
From her 2008 coll­ec­tion, Red Bird, p. 46
Published by Bea­con Press 2008

Who is that on the other side of you

“Who is the third who walks always bes­i­de you?
When I count, the­re are only you and I tog­e­ther
But when I look ahead up the white road
The­re is always ano­ther one wal­king bes­i­de you
Gli­ding wrapt in a brown man­t­le, hoo­ded
I do not know whe­ther a man or a woman
— But who is that on the other side of you?”

T.S. Eli­ot (The Waste Land)

Dark­ness touch­ed her

“That night, after she’d screa­med into her crumpled blan­ket for a long time and final­ly pun­ched a hole through the dark­ness into that other place whe­re the ans­wers came from, the dark­ness began to speak to her, its voice more distinct than she had ever heard it befo­re. The dark­ness touch­ed her. Its touch was hard and warm, but somehow com­fort­ing, as if strong, invi­si­ble hands car­essed her.”

[Excerpt: Schweit­zer, Dar­rell: Some­ti­mes you have to shout about it]

Guar­di­ans of our own fears

“May­be tra­di­ti­on and ghosts are just rem­nants of a past you refu­se to lea­ve behind. We do not learn from the past, we just keep the­se rem­nants. And we put our faith in them. And with faith we crea­te tho­se spi­rits and spells, and beco­me zea­lous guar­di­ans of our own fears.”

[Dési­rée Bres­send, Call of the Sui­ci­de Forest, Heft 5]

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