an idiot blog for an idiot world

Endings (and almost endings)

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“It was as if that great rush of anger had washed me clean, emptied me of hope, and, gazing up at the dark sky spangled with its signs and stars, for the first time, the first, I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe.” – The Stranger, Albert Camus

“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.” – The Road, Cormac McCarthy

“He gazed up at the enormous face. Forty years it had taken him to learn what kind of smile was hidden beneath the dark moustache. O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the loving breast! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.” – 1984, George Orwell

“It’s funny. Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.” – The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger

“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” – A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens

“There was some open space between what he knew and what he tried to believe, but nothing could be done about it, and if you can’t fix it, you’ve got to stand it.” – Brokeback Mountain, E Annie Proulx

“But that is the beginning of a new story – the story of the gradual renewal of a man, the story of his gradual regeneration, of his passing from one world into another, of his initiation into a new unknown life. That might be the subject of a new story, but our present story is ended.” – Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoevsky

“Yes, they will trample me underfoot, the numbers marching one two three, four hundred million five hundred six, reducing me to specks of voiceless dust, just as, in all good time, they will trample my son who is not my son, and his son who will not be his, and his who will not be his, until the thousand and first generation, until a thousand and one midnights have bestowed their terrible gifts and a thousand and one children have died, because it is the privilege and the curse of midnight’s children to be both masters and victims of their times, to forsake privacy and be sucked into the annihilating whirlpool of the multitudes, and to be unable to live or die in peace.” – Midnight’s Children, Salman Rushdie

“Again and again I called out for Midori from the dead centre of this place that was no place.” – Norwegian Wood, Haruki Murakami

 

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Written by Pranaya

July 10, 2013 at 5:47 AM

Posted in Uncategorized

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