Great Throughts Treasury

"When the light of the star which flows into my eyes as a drop of gold first pierced the darkness in space, there was not a single eye on earth looking at the sky."

"Separation isn’t time or distance it’s the bridge between us finer than silk thread sharper than swords."

"Living is no laughing matter: You must take it seriously. So much so and to such a degree that, for example, your hands tied behind your back, your back to the wall or else in a laboratory in your white coat and safety glasses, you can die for people – even for people whose faces you’ve never seen, even though you know living is the most real, most beautiful thing. I mean, you must take living so seriously that even at seventy, for example, you’ll plant olive trees – and not for your children, either, but because, although you fear death you don’t believe it, because living, I mean, weighs heavier."

"Let's give the world to the children just for one day like a balloon in bright and striking colours to play with let them play singing among the stars let's give the world to the children like a huge apple like a warm loaf of bread at least for one day let them have enough let's give the world to the children at least for one day let the world learn friendship children will get the world from our hands they'll plant immortal trees."

"The great humanity is the deck-passenger on the ship third class on the train on foot on the causeway the great humanity. The great humanity goes to work at eight marries at twenty dies at forty the great humanity. Bread is enough for all except the great humanity rice the same sugar the same cloth the same books the same are enough for all except the great humanity. The great humanity has no shade on his soil no lamp on his road no glass on his window but the great humanity has hope you can't live without hope."

"Living is no laughing matter: you must live with great seriousness like a squirrel for example - I mean without looking for something beyond and above living, I mean living must be your whole occupation."

"However and wherever we are, we must live as if we will never die."

"A Sad State Of Freedom - You waste the attention of your eyes, the glittering labour of your hands, and knead the dough enough for dozens of loaves of which you'll taste not a morsel; you are free to slave for others-- you are free to make the rich richer. The moment you're born they plant around you mills that grind lies lies to last you a lifetime. You keep thinking in your great freedom a finger on your temple free to have a free conscience. Your head bent as if half-cut from the nape, your arms long, hanging, your saunter about in your great freedom: you're free with the freedom of being unemployed. You love your country as the nearest, most precious thing to you. But one day, for example, they may endorse it over to America, and you, too, with your great freedom-- you have the freedom to become an air-base. You may proclaim that one must live not as a tool, a number or a link but as a human being-- then at once they handcuff your wrists. You are free to be arrested, imprisoned and even hanged. There's neither an iron, wooden nor a tulle curtain in your life; there's no need to choose freedom: you are free. But this kind of freedom is a sad affair under the stars. "

"The knight of immortal youth at the age of fifty found his mind in his heart and on July morning went out to capture the right, the beautiful, the just. Facing him a world of silly and arrogant giants, he on his sad but brave Rocinante. I know what it means to be longing for something, but if your heart weighs only a pound and sixteen ounces, there's no sense, my Don, in fighting these senseless windmills. But you are right, of course, Dulcinea is your woman, the most beautiful in the world; I'm sure you'll shout this fact at the face of street-traders; but they'll pull you down from your horse and beat you up. But you, the unbeatable knight of our curse, will continue to glow behind the heavy iron visor and Dulcinea will become even more beautiful."

"I think of you and I feel the scent of my mother my mother, the most beautiful of all. You are on the carousel of the festival inside me you hover around, your skirt and your hair flying Mere seconds between finding your beautiful face and losing it. What is the reason, why do I remember you like a wound on my heart what is the reason that I hear your voice when you are so far and I can't help getting up with excitement? I kneel down and look at your hands I want to touch your hands but I can't you are behind a glass. Sweetheart, I am a bewildered spectator of the drama that I am playing in my twilight. "

"Hiroshima Child - I come and stand at every door But none can hear my silent tread I knock and yet remain unseen For I am dead for I am dead I'm only seven though I died In Hiroshima long ago I'm seven now as I was then When children die they do not grow My hair was scorched by swirling flame My eyes grew dim my eyes grew blind Death came and turned my bones to dust And that was scattered by the wind I need no fruit I need no rice I need no sweets nor even bread I ask for nothing for myself For I am dead for I am dead All that I need is that for peace You fight today you fight today So that the children of this world Can live and grow and laugh and play. "

"The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted. Suddenly something stirred on the ground. The trees are whispering in the dark. Your bare arms will be cold. Far off where we can't see, the moon must be rising. It hasn't reached us yet, slipping through the leaves to light up your shoulder. But I know a wind comes up with the moon. The trees are whispering. Your bare arms will be cold. From above, from the branches lost in the dark, something dropped at your feet. You moved closer to me. Under my hand your bare flesh is like the fuzzy skin of a fruit. Neither a song of the heart nor "common sense"-- before the trees, birds, and insects, my hand on my wife's flesh is thinking. Tonight my hand can't read or write. Neither loving nor unloving... It's the tongue of a leopard at a spring, a grape leaf, a wolf's paw. To move, breathe, eat, drink. My hand is like a seed splitting open underground. Neither a song of the heart nor "common sense," neither loving nor unloving. My hand thinking on my wife's flesh is the hand of the first man. Like a root that finds water underground, it says to me: "To eat, drink, cold, hot, struggle, smell, color-- not to live in order to die but to die to live..." And now as red female hair blows across my face, as something stirs on the ground, as the trees whisper in the dark, and as the moon rises far off where we can't see, my hand on my wife's flesh before the trees, birds, and insects, I want the right of life, of the leopard at the spring, of the seed splitting open-- I want the right of the first man."

"Last Will And Testament - Comrades, if I don't live to see the day -- I mean,if I die before freedom comes -- take me away and bury me in a village cemetery in Anatolia. The worker Osman whom Hassan Bey ordered shot can lie on one side of me, and on the other side the martyr Aysha, who gave birth in the rye and died inside of forty days. Tractors and songs can pass below the cemetery -- in the dawn light, new people, the smell of burnt gasoline, fields held in common, water in canals, no drought or fear of the police. Of course, we won't hear those songs: the dead lie stretched out underground and rot like black branches, deaf, dumb, and blind under the earth. But, I sang those songs before they were written, I smelled the burnt gasoline before the blueprints for the tractors were drawn. As for my neighbors, the worker Osman and the martyr Aysha, they felt the great longing while alive, maybe without even knowing it. Comrades, if I die before that day, I mean -- and it's looking more and more likely -- bury me in a village cemetery in Anatolia, and if there's one handy, a plane tree could stand at my head, I wouldn't need a stone or anything."

"I love you like dipping bread into salt and eating Like waking up at night with high fever and drinking water, with the tap in my mouth Like unwrapping the heavy box from the postman with no clue what it is fluttering, happy, doubtful I love you like flying over the sea in a plane for the first time Like something moves inside me when it gets dark softly in Istanbul I love you Like thanking God that we live. "

"And don't forget, a prisoner's wife must always think good thoughts."

"As we see the most beautiful rivers after? the most beautiful books have not read it yet... the most beautiful days of our lives yet to come."

"At eighteen the heart shoots like a pebble from a slingshot and the head doesn't sit on the shoulder."

"At eighteen you don't think about memories, you tell them."

"Autobiography in 1902, I was born I was born back in town, I again go back I do not like three when I was in Aleppo I noticed on nine can I in Moscow Communist University student forty-nine can again in Moscow Tseke-party as a guest and on the four of us since my showmanship thank some people grasses, some human fish varieties knows I partings some human heart that counts the stars name I starved of life in prison slept well at the larger hotels also suffered hunger I hunger task S is also in the tasting I do not eat is like until I'm thirty I hang asked me forty-eight my peace medal given to me, that gave the thirty-six in my half year I passed four meters square concrete fifty-nine can I eighteen hours in flew P?ra? from Havana Lenin did not see the guard kept the casket at the beginning of 924 in the 961 I have visited in mausoleum of the book are my party break Magadan presume they called me just did not destroyed their idols under the not crushed 951 a sea young colleague walked on the death of the 52 cracks with a heart four months supine waited for the death of my favorite women like crazy, I'm jealous this close envy did not Charlie Chaplin even cheated woman my I did not talk behind my friends drank, but tipplers yet always with my own sweat pulled bread my money, I'm happy someone else's account embarrassed lied I told someone else to upset but out of the blue lied too rode dash to the plane, automobile majority cannot ride the opera went to the majority do not go name have not even heard the opera's majority went sometimes to places I did not go 21 since the mosque, church temple synagogue to the mage but the coffee horoscope monitor my was my writings thirty or forty languages are printed on Turkey in my Turkish live with cancer I even caught my not necessarily prime, et cetera would be no enthusiast I'm not in this business a de war, I did not take refuge also did not go late at night on the road also did not fall pique the plane below but sixty close to in a word comrades in Berlin today with grief die is Though I can say I've had a decent live and how much more my head than what passes , who knows."

"At eighteen you sleep without memories."

"Great humanity is the deck-passenger on the ship third class on the train on foot on the causeway the great humanity. The great humanity goes to work at eight marries at twenty dies at forty the great humanity. Bread is enough for all except the great humanity rice the same sugar the same cloth the same books the same are enough for all except the great humanity. The great humanity has no shade on his soil no lamp on his road no glass on his window but the great humanity has hope you can't live without hope."

"Blackened wood, most of the bay, between the houses, narrow streets, crooked, going crawled alone. And the silence, the solitude one. I'm a tiny fish."

"Being captured is beside the point. The point is not to surrender."

"If you believe in the home country of the world and to mankind... Vsicodon Khattak to the gallows or would receive in your cells will remain there for ten years or a quarter of a century , but any case that you do not even think for a moment that if they Alqok as science on the column for the better... you have to stick to life. Despite the surveyed unhappy Foajpk to resist and to live for another day Defiance enemies some yourself will remain in the cell alone as a cornerstone in the bottom of the well but others Simetzj concerns of life Ststrq hearing, hundreds of miles away, to rustle the leaves. to learn that waiting for messages in the cell or singing a sad song or looking at the ceiling until the morning looks rigid, all this sweet taste of sugar contains, but the risk to see your face clean-shaven from time to time and forget the past .. but keep on spring evenings and chew prison food... Even the crumbs... and laugh loud is important not to forget the hustle and bustle of laughter... and if I forget your pet... Who knows? ! I have no less Sian... Believe me think that the prisoner the wind strengthened on the Green Bough ... tired of thinking in the cell with flowers Jouri and comfortable thinking mountains and seas... Try to read or write more ... and that occupy your time tailoring business for herself or in the glass industry then your patience years after hour Other important not to stun radiation diamond disappeared in hand chest... left."

"I do not live on the land as a tenant house... or visitor countryside amid lush greenery... and live on the ground as if the world was your father's house! Trust in love, land and sea... and give your confidence before other things to man. Give your love to pull for the machine and books and give your love before things the other person and to feel his depression... Wicker dry and dormant planet... and .. Animal seat and to feel the first man his depression!"

"I know you can't wash in the same river even once. I know the river will bring new lights that you will not see. I know we live slightly longer than a horse and not nearly as long as a crow. I know this has troubled people before and will trouble those after me. I know all this has been said a thousand times before and will be said after me. I didn't know I like the sky cloudy or clear the blue vault that Andrei watched on his back on the battlefield at Borodino."

"I said come, he said to me remain, like he said, he said to me died, I came ... I was ... I like ... I'm dead."

"I'm twenty-seven, she's seventeen. Blind Cupid, lame Cupid, both blind and lame Cupid said, Love this girl."

"In the morning are the owner. 's Day does not always stay in the cloud. Probably is the future there will be days... most beautiful."

"I'm only seven, although I died In Hiroshima long ago, I'm seven now as I was then - When children die, they do not grow."

"It's this way: being captured is beside the point, the point is not to surrender."

"Invitation... Here, called you, go ahead, sit down, it is said to you, talk straight. There is no contract will not be solved node, the lawsuits will not do death, the life we share!"

"I've never regretted I was born too soon. I'm proud to be a child of the twentieth century. I'm satisfied to join its ranks on our side and fight for a new world..."

"Loneliness feels like prison."

"Life cannot afford to miss you!"

"Looking at this insolent earth, you hear the first battle cry of our species- trap it under a rock and together, screaming, attack and destroy it, as if killing a mammoth."

"Love to love without caution, without the expense, without thinking of the price .. enough for you as you liked beau"

"My country or the stars Or my youth, what's farthest?"

"My only one! In your last letter My head aches my heart is stunned! you say. If they hang you, if I lose you; you say; I can't live! You'll live my dearest wife, like a black smoke in the wind my memory will vanish; you'll live, the red-haired sister of my heart at most one year it lasts in the twentieth century the grief of death.. Death a dead body swinging on a rope. My heart doesn't accept such a death? But be sure that, my love, if some pitiable gypsy's hairy black spider like hand slips the rope around my neck, to see the fear in my blue eyes they'll look in vainat Nƒz?m! And I, in the twilight of my last morning, shall see my friends and you, and carry only the grief of an unfinished song to the soil...My wife! Good hearted, golden colored, with eyes sweeter than honey, my bee; why did I write you that they want to hang me, the trial is in the first step and they don't pluck like a turnip the head of a man. Come, forget them all. These are so far away probabilities. If you have some money buy me a flannel underwear, my sciatica is acting up. And don't forget that always there should be good thoughts in the mind of a prisoner's wife."

"My woman came with me as far as Brest, she got off the train and stayed on the platform, she grew smaller and smaller, she became a kernel of wheat in the infinite blue, then all I could see were the tracks. Then she called out from Poland, but I couldn't answer, I couldn't ask, Where are you, my rose, where are you? Come, she said, but I couldn't reach her, the train was going like it would never stop, I was choking with grief. Then patches of snow were rotting on sandy earth, and suddenly I knew my woman was watching :Did you forget me, she asked, did you forget me? Spring marched with muddy bare feet on the sky. Then stars lighted on the telegraph wires, darkness dashed the train like rain, my woman stood under the telegraph poles, her heart pounding as if she were in my arms, the poles kept disappearing, she didn't move, the train was going like it would never stop, I was choking with grief. Then suddenly I knew I'd been on that train for years- I'm still amazed at how or why I knew it -and always singing the same great song of hope, I'm forever leaving the cities and women I love, and carrying my losses like wounds opening inside me, I'm getting closer, closer to somewhere."

"Never a man to turn out: What is fasting? I have questions ... Just try to explain it to you. Recipes makes conceive. Hungry the rest of a person: -What is fasting? If you ask me: -I do not know, he says. Hunger is something ... Hunger Hunger Hunger ... here ... maybe even say that too. Just look at your face before responding."

"My funeral you will emerge from the courtyard of the house? , and how Stnzlona from the third floor Valmassad not afford the coffin and narrow stairs? . Maybe the sun was flooded patio and bathroom, where, many and perhaps it was snowing and children cheered and may be Madrara rain on wet asphalt and in the courtyard of the house garbage bins as every day , and if they carry the bodies, as usual Exposed face up truck has fallen on everything from the bird bath so that is the gospel of good music came and whether or not children are come Paljnazac they are passionate about and spend my while to Strno window Kitchen from behind and from the balconies where washing Stodni women I have lived happy in this courtyard to a degree not envisage Via my neighbors wish you, from the dimensions of length of stay."

"Some memories for me, this city, plain dropped the city of. A hope-not the city. summer, dawn prayer, the high seas dawn in the watched an inaccessible cloud-city is not. I'm a former Moskoval?y my old ?stanbullu as much as I. Krasnaya Presya a factory, there appeared the first time before. Poems read. heavy hands on his knees in his eyes compassionate patience speak Turkish as if they listened to me, a forty-five minute up and down and cheered. One day these days when a piece of my nose grows, pulls my ear the sound of applause to me myself brings."

"The most beautiful rivers we have not seen yet... the most beautiful books have not read it yet... the most beautiful days of our lives yet to come."

"The weeping willow flowing was the water showing in its mirror the willow trees. The weeping willows in the water were washing their hair! Striking the willows with their sparkling, bare swords the red horsemen were running to where the sun sets! Suddenly like a bird as if struck in the wing a wounded horseman rolled down from his horse! He didn't shout, he didn?t call back those who go along, he just looked with brimming eyes at the shining horseshoes of departing riders! O what a pity! What a pity for him that no more he shall lie on the foaming necks of galloping horses, no more he shall play his sword behind the white armies! The sounds of the horseshoes fades away slowly, the horsemen vanish at where the sun sets! Horsemen, horsemen, red horsemen, their horses winged with wind! Their horses winged with...Their horses winged...Their horses...Horse... Life has passed like the wind winged horsemen! The voice of the flowing water ceased. The shadows shadowed the colors wiped off. Black coverings came down over his blue eyes, the weeping willows hung down over his yellow hair! Weep not weeping willow weep not ,in the mirror of the black water clasp not your hands! Clasp not your hands! Weep not!"

"The most beautiful sea- hasn?t been crossed yet. Our most beautiful child ? hasn?t grown up yet. Our most beautiful days- we haven?t seen them yet. And the most beautiful words I wanted to tell you I haven?t told them yet."

"The strangest of our powers Is the courage to live Knowing that we will die, Knowing nothing more true."

"The world was weird. Nobody can predict what will happen tomorrow."

"Thinking of you is pretty, hopeful, it is like listening to the most beautiful song from the most beautiful voice on earth... but hope is not enough for me anymore, I don't want to listen to songs any more, I want to sing."

"The world's not run by governments or money but people rule a hundred years from now maybe but it will be for sure."