can you carry my drink?, i have everything else
é verdade que sei pouco do amor. do amor fiel e inteiro, conquistado cada dia a rotinas não exactamente tão extraordinárias como se imaginou que seriam. do amor verdadeiro.
A tiny old lady named Ettie, whose flesh was the color of toadstools and whose memory was so eroded as to make her incapable of bidding, and who sat smiling by herself in the porch, took me by the hand once and told me that in San Francisco, before the fire, she had lived near a cathedral, and in the house opposite lived a Catholic lady who kept a huge parrot on her balcony. When the bells rang she would pray, and the parrot would pray with her, the woman's voice and the parrot's voice, on and on, between clamor and clangor. After a while the woman fell ill, or at least stopped coming out on her balcony, but the parrot was still there, and it whistled and prayed and flirted its tail whenever the bells rang. The fire took the church and its bells and no doubt the parrot, too, and quite possibly the Catholic lady. Ettie waved it all away with her hand
and pretended to sleep.
Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus two make four. If that is granted, all else follows.
a apresentar o oscar de melhor actiz. o charme, senhores, o charme...
"As minhas reflexões levaram-me cada vez mais perto do Catolicismo, onde vejo o acabamento completo do Judaísmo. Ter-me-ia convertido, se não tivesse visto preparar-se desde há anos (…) a formidável vaga de antissemitismo que vai desabar sobre o mundo. Quis ficar entre os que serão amanhã perseguidos."
"All of the officer patients in the ward were forced to censor letters written by all the enlistedmen patients, who were kept in residence in wards of their own. It was a monotonous job, and Yossarian was dissapointed to learn that the lives of enlisted men were only slightly more interesting than the lives of officers. After the first day he had no curiosity at all. To break the monotony he invented games. Death to all modifiers, he declared one day, and out of every letter that passed through his hands went every adverb and every adjective. The nexy day he made war on articles. ..."
juro que acabei de escrever a frase abaixo, e que isso faz parte da actividade que escrevo sempre à frente da palavra Profissão, quando ela aparece em formulários burocráticos e afins:
Passando por cima, por exemplo, de São Tomás de Aquino e da Filosofia como escrava da Teologia, gostava de apontar agora para dois fenómenos actuais: a disciplina de Filosofia no Ensino Secundário e os livros de auto-ajuda.
(ou, na verdade, sumário do ano velho)
"If the philosopher is only a philosopher, absorbed in philosophy and without knowing the blessed life of freedom, then he misses a very important point, he wins the whole world and he loses himself"