Our high respect for a well read person is praise enough for literature.
Some have speculated that the way [Albert] Camus died made his theories on absurdity a self-fulfilling prophecy. Others would say it was the triumphant meaningful way he lived that allowed him to rise heroically above...
Sopa yemiş köpeğe kırbacı bir kere gösterin yeter!
Onlar asla ölmemek için ne yaygara koparmışlar, ne dövüşmüşler ne de kendilerini övmüşlerdi. Ölümü soğukkanlılıkla kabul etmişlerdi. Güvensizlik duygusundan uzak olarak yavaş yavaş hazırlanmış ve iyi bir zamanda kısrağı, tayı, ev dokuması mantoyu, çizmeleri kimlerin...
If birth is a manifestation of life, death is another.
Fly without wings; Dream with open eyes; See in darkness.
One hand I extend into myself, the other toward others.
To cut and tighten sentences is the secret of mastery.
They blossomed, they did not talk about blossoming.
…there are only two things that really matter in life. Literature and love.
If a novel’s salient aim is virtue, I want to throw it against the wall.