You die for your country... I say: Let my country die for me. Up to the present it has done so. I didn’t want it to die. Damn death. Long live life.
Life is many days. This will end.
Turks, it’s in the dogma. Because if they didn’t believe they’d go straight to heaven when they die they’d try to live better – at least, so I think.
I suppose she was pious because no man would look at her twice.
Don’t mope over it all day, he said. I’m inconsequent. Give up the moody brooding.
We can’t change the country. Let us change the subject.
He had an odd autobiographical habit which led him to compose in his mind from time to time a short sentence about himself containing a subject in the third person and a verb in the past tense.
Like distant music these words that he had written years before were borne towards him from the past.
Too poetical that about the sad. Music did that. Music hath charms Shakespeare said. Quotations every day in the year. To be or not to be. Wisdom while you wait.
He proves by algebra that Shakespeare’s ghost is Hamlet’s grandfather.
Better for ninetynine guilty to escape than for one innocent person to be wrongfully condemned.
You don’t know yet what money is. Money is power, when you have lived as long as I have. I know, I know. If youth but knew. But what does Shakespeare say? Put but money in thy purse.
I was happier then. Or was that I? Or am I now I?
That is how poets write, the similar sounds. But then Shakespeare has no rhymes: blank verse. The flow of the language it is. The thoughts. Solemn.
Saas and taas and specis bizaas.
This is the very worst hour of the day. Vitality. Dull, gloomy : hate this hour. Feel as if I had been eaten and spewed.
See now. There all the time without you: and ever shall be, world without end.
Why have women such eyes of witchery?
That is God... A shout in the street.
And we stuffing food in one hole and out behind: food, chyle, blood, dung, earth, food: have to feed it like stoking an engine.