The New York Trilogy Quotes
Quotes tagged as "the-new-york-trilogy"
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“I cannot say who I will be tomorrow. Each day is new, and each day I am born again. I see hope everywhere, even in the dark, and when I die, I will perhaps become God.”
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“Dark, cenneti keşfedilecek bir yer olarak görmüyordu. İnsanı oraya götürecek haritalar yoktu, insanı o ülkenin kıyılarına götürecek denizcilik araçları da bulunmuyordu. O ülke daha çok insanın kendi içindeydi: insanın günün birinde burada ve şimdi yaratabileceği bir öte düşüncesi. Çünkü ütopya hiçbir yerdeydi; hatta Dark'ın açıkladığı gibi o "sözcük"te bile yoktu. Ve eğer insan bu hayal edilmiş yeri yaratabilecekse bu ancak onu kendi elleriyle inşa etmesiyle mümkündü.”
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“Today, as never before: the tramps, the down-and-outs, the shopping-bag ladies, the drifters and drunks. They range from the merely destitute to the wretchedly broken. Wherever you turn, they are there, in good neighborhoods and bad.
Some beg with a semblance of pride. Give me this money, they seem to say, and soon I will be back there with the rest of you, rushing back and forth on my daily rounds. Others have given up hope of ever leaving their tramphood. They lie there sprawled out on the sidewalk with their hat, or cup, or box, not even bothering to look up at the passerby, too defeated even to thank the ones who drop a coin beside them. Still others try to work for the money they are given: the blind pencil sellers, the winos who wash the windshield of your car. Some tell stories, usually tragic accounts of their own lives, as if to give their benefactors something for their kindness—even if only words.”
― City of Glass
Some beg with a semblance of pride. Give me this money, they seem to say, and soon I will be back there with the rest of you, rushing back and forth on my daily rounds. Others have given up hope of ever leaving their tramphood. They lie there sprawled out on the sidewalk with their hat, or cup, or box, not even bothering to look up at the passerby, too defeated even to thank the ones who drop a coin beside them. Still others try to work for the money they are given: the blind pencil sellers, the winos who wash the windshield of your car. Some tell stories, usually tragic accounts of their own lives, as if to give their benefactors something for their kindness—even if only words.”
― City of Glass
“Mucho más tarde, cuando pudo pensar en las cosas que le sucedieron, llegaría a la conclusión de que nada era real excepto el azar.”
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“Amar las palabras, tener interés en lo que se escribe, creer en el poder de los libros, esto supera a todo lo demás, y a su lado la vida de uno se queda muy pequeña.”
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