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“Respect was invented to cover the empty place where love should be.

— Anna Karenina

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On passe sa vie à romancer les motifs et à simplifier les faits.

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Herkes bilir ki hayat, yaşanmak zahmetine değmeyen bir şeydir.

Albert Camus

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Yet you could feel a vibration in the air, a sense of hastening. It had started with the moon, inaccessible poem that it was. Now men had walked upon it, rubber treads on a pearl of the gods. Perhaps it was an awareness of time passing, the last summer of the decade. Sometimes I just wanted to raise my hands and stop. But stop what? Maybe just growing up.

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Ces enfants dont je n'ai pas voulu, s'ils savaient le bonheur qu'ils me doivent !

-Cioran

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Creativity is the ability to introduce order into the randomness of nature

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“But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil

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"There is no means of testing which decision is better, because there is no basis for comparison. We live everything as it comes, without warning, like an actor going on cold. And what can life be worth if the first rehearsal for life is life itself? That is why life is always like a sketch. No, “sketch” is not quite the word, because a sketch is an outline of something, the groundwork for a picture, whereas the sketch that is our life is a sketch for nothing, an outline with no picture." - Milan Kundera - The Unbearable Lightness of Being

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“When a society is rich, its people don't need to work with their hands; they can devote themselves to activities of the spirit. We have more and more universities and more and more students. If students are going to earn degrees, they've got to come up with dissertation topics. And since dissertations can be written about everything under the sun, the number of topics is infinite. Sheets of paper covered with words pile up in archives sadder than cemeteries, because no one ever visits them, not even on All Souls' Day. Culture is perishing in overproduction, in an avalanche of words, in the madness of quantity. That's why one banned book in your former country means infinitely more than the billions of words spewed out by our universities.”

— Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

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“ Love suffers long and is kind. 

It is not proud. 

Love bears all things,

believes all things,

hopes all things,

and endures all things.

Love never fails. ”

- 1 Corinthians 13

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Sonnet 18:

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm'd;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;

Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

- Shakespeare

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ölü bir yılan gibi yatıyordu aramızda

yorgun, kirli ve umutsuz geçmişim

oysa bilmediğin bir şey vardı sevgilim

Ben sende bütün aşklarımı temize çektim

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Chapter 8 - Noise and Silence Our critique began as all critiques begin: with doubt. Doubt became our narrative. Ours was a quest for a new story, our own. And we grasped toward this new history driven by the suspicion that ordinary language couldn’t tell it. Our past appeared frozen in the distance, and our every gesture and accent signified the negation of the old world and the reach for a new one. The way we lived created a new situation, one of exuberance and friendship, that of a subversive microsociety, in the heart of a society which ignored it. Art was not the goal but the occasion and the method for locating our specific rhythm and buried possibilities of our time. The discovery of a true communication was what it was about, or at least the quest for such a communication. The adventure of finding it and losing it. We the unappeased, the unaccepting continued looking, filling in the silences with our own wishes, fears and fantasies. Driven forward by the fact that no matter how empty the world seemed, no matter how degraded and used up the world appeared to us, we knew that anything was still possible. And, given the right circumstances, a new world was just as likely as an old one.

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