Tuesday's quote #19

 "If I had no self-awareness, I think I'd know."

Britta Perry in Community, Emotional Consequences of Broadcast Television (Season 6, episode 13)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Filesofie in 't plat #3: Heraclitös de duustere

In dis rubriek vertaal ich 'n filesofische passaag die ich sjwan ving nao mien moojertaal, 't Limbörgs. Vandaag inkele heidense wäörd van de zögenömde "pre-Socraat" Heraclitös, ouwe wäörd die euvergewäjd zeen van eeuwe veurdat Ozze Leeven Jer gebore waor. De selectie is de miene. Ich ging bie michzelf op onderzeuk. 't Is alle luuj gegeve zichzelf te kènne en versjtändig te zeen. Hybris bewärt geblös te weure nog väöl mjer es 'ne oetsjloonde brand. De minsje wach, es zie sjterve, wat zie neet verwachte en aoch neet geluive. Natuur - zö zaet Heraclitös - plaeg zich verborge te houwe. Veur de god is alles sjwan, good en rechvaardig, mèr de minsje goon d'rvan oet dat 't eine onrechvaardig, 't andere rechvaardig is. De weeg op en neer is ein en dezelfde. Kränkte maak gezondheid prettig en good, hoonger verzaodiging, vermeuidheid oetröste. Zie höbbe d'r gein begrip van, wie 't aafzonderende mit zichzelf insjtömp: 'n ömmer terrukkjerrende härm...
Read more

Tuesday's quote #20

"From my place at table I would suddenly see through one of the west windows a marvelous case of levitation. There, for an instant, the figure of my father in his wind-rippled white summer suit would be displayed, gloriously sprawling in mid-air, his limbs in a curiously casual attitude, his handsome, imperturbable features turned to the sky. Thrice, to the mighty heave-ho of his invisible tossers, he would fly up in this fashion, and the second time he would go higher than the first and then there he would be, on his last and loftiest flight, reclining as if for good, against the cobalt blue of the summer noon, like one of those paradisiac personages who comfortably soar, with such a wealth of folds in their garments, on the vaulted ceiling of a church while below, one by one, the wax tapers in mortal hands light up to make a swarm of minute flames in the mist of incense, and the priest chants of eternal repose, and funeral lilies conceal the face of whoever lies there, among the...
Read more

"When I Heard at the Close of the Day", by Walt Whitman

 When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv’d with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow’d, And else when I carous’d, or when my plans were accomplish’d, still I was not happy, But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh’d, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn, When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light, When I wander’d alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise, And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy, O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish’d me more, and the beautiful day pass’d well, And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend, And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores, I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to m...
Read more