"Books say: She did this because. Life says: She did this.
Books are where things are explained to you; life is where things aren't. I'm not surprised some people prefer books. Books make sense of life. The only problem is that the lives they make sense of are other people's lives, NEVER YOUR OWN."
(Julian Barnes, Flaubert's Parrot)
I repeat, but it is so great this words... :)
ReplyDelete"He mounted to the parapet again and gazed out over Dublin bay, his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly.
-- God, he said quietly. Isn't the sea what Algy calls it: a grey sweet mother? The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea. Epi oinopa ponton. Ah, Dedalus, the Greeks. I must teach you. You must read them in the original. Thalatta! Thalatta! She is our great sweet mother. Come and look.
Stephen stood up and went over to the parapet. Leaning on it he looked down on the water and on the mailboat clearing the harbour mouth of Kingstown."
James Joyce, Ulysses
OK, I do have to read Ulysses :)
ReplyDeletethanks for the "spark" and recommendation!