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Aryan 
миродержец
 
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Francine
магистр
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geralt9999 
магистр
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 11 сентября 2013 г. 16:28 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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Death. Now, that was an interesting notion. One that, perhaps, he should have been more familiar with than any other being, but the truth was, he knew nothing about it at all. The Jaghut went to war against death. So many met that notion with disbelief, or confusion. They could not understand.
Who is the enemy? The enemy is surrender. Where is the battlefield? In the heart of despair. How is victory won? It lies within reach. All you need do is choose to recognize it. Failing that, you can always cheat. Which is what I did. How did I defeat death? By taking its throne.
Steven Erikson "The Crippled God"
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Ogham the blood, ogham the line
Our cult of the fallen will triumph over time |
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geralt9999
магистр
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14 ноября 2013 г. 08:56 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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A man should always try and do good wherever he goes, leave any place better than it was when he found it.
K. J. Parker "Colours in the Steel"
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Ogham the blood, ogham the line
Our cult of the fallen will triumph over time |
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Брисоль
гранд-мастер
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16 ноября 2013 г. 19:04 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be defeated (G.K. Chesterton).
You must make good from evil because there is nothing else from which to make it (Robert Penn Warren).
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Белых крыльев давно за спиною нет (Канцлер Ги) |
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Aryan
миродержец
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laughingbuddha
магистр
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Aryan
миродержец
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21 апреля 2014 г. 18:53 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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There is a whole lovely ballad that I like very much:
CLANCY OF THE OVERFLOW — A.B. "Banjo" Paterson
I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just "on spec", addressed as follows: "Clancy, of The Overflow".
And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written in a thumbnail dipped in tar)
'Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
"Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are."
In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving "down the Cooper" where the western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover's life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.
And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wondrous glory of the everlasting stars.
I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all.
And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.
And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.
And I somehow fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cashbook and the journal -
But I doubt he'd suit the office, Clancy, of "The Overflow".
The Bulletin, 21 December 1889.
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Eramos pocos y parió la abuela |
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Aryan
миродержец
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Aryan
миродержец
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geralt9999
магистр
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31 июля 2014 г. 23:15 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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"I once saw a dead man. Actually, i've seen many dead men. Too many for most. But this one, i've carried with me. Was a car wreck... The driver, he was the dead man. Had a bullet hole in his temple. Shot from the inside of car or out, didn't matter. His hat, though, was one of those mesh hats, with the puffy front. Like a trucker wears. Anyway, written on the hat was: "Shit happens." The epitaph of humanity's gravestone. Shit happens. A neat little bow over a pine box of waste. What a metaphor for life."
Brian Azzarello "100 Bullets"
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Ogham the blood, ogham the line
Our cult of the fallen will triumph over time |
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geralt9999
магистр
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7 октября 2014 г. 12:26 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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“You know,” Gurgeh said slowly, his voice hardly louder than the crackling logs in the fire, “I’m actually slightly afraid of playing this young kid.” He glanced at the drone. “Really. Because I do enjoy winning, because I do have something nobody can copy, something nobody else can have; I’m me; I’m one of the best.” He looked quickly, briefly up at the machine again, as though ashamed. “But every now and again, I do worry about losing; I think, what if there’s some kid—especially some kid, somebody younger and just naturally more talented—out there, able to take that away from me. That worries me. The better I do the worse things get because the more I have to lose.”
Iain M. Banks "Player of Games"
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Ogham the blood, ogham the line
Our cult of the fallen will triumph over time |
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geralt9999
магистр
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12 октября 2014 г. 15:36 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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“There’s a saying: ‘War is a long cliff.’ You can avoid the cliff completely, you can walk along the top for as long as you have the nerve, you can even choose to leap off, and if you only fall a short way before you hit a ledge you can always scramble back up again. Unless you’re just plain invaded, there are always choices, and even then, there’s usually something you’ve missed — a choice you didn’t make — that could have avoided invasion in the first place. You people still have your choices. There’s nothing inevitable about it.”
Iain M. Banks "Use of Weapons"
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Ogham the blood, ogham the line
Our cult of the fallen will triumph over time |
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Aryan
миродержец
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31 октября 2014 г. 02:50 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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“I am free, no matter what rules surround me. If I find them tolerable, I tolerate them; if I find them too obnoxious, I break them. I am free because I know that I alone am morally responsible for everything I do.”
“Progress isn't made by early risers. It's made by lazy men trying to find easier ways to do something.”
“Sin lies only in hurting others unnecessarily. All other "sins" are invented nonsense.”
“A dying culture invariably exhibits personal rudeness. Bad manners. Lack of consideration for others in minor matters. A loss of politeness, of gentle manners, is more significant than is a riot.”
“Secrecy is the keystone to all tyranny. Not force, but secrecy and censorship. When any government or church for that matter, undertakes to say to its subjects, "This you may not read, this you must not know," the end result is tyranny and oppression, no matter how holy the motives. Mighty little force is needed to control a man who has been hoodwinked in this fashion; contrariwise, no amount of force can control a free man, whose mind is free. No, not the rack nor the atomic bomb, not anything. You can't conquer a free man; the most you can do is kill him.”
“Your enemy is never a villain in his own eyes. Keep this in mind; it may offer a way to make him your friend. If not, you can kill him without hate — and quickly.”
R. Heinlein
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Eramos pocos y parió la abuela |
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geralt9999
магистр
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3 ноября 2014 г. 19:37 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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"Life is the best thing that's ever been invented."
Gabriel García Márquez "No One Writes to the Colonel"
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Ogham the blood, ogham the line
Our cult of the fallen will triumph over time |
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oman
магистр
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13 апреля 2015 г. 18:17 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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"...that’s the trouble with being a racist in the white heartlands, you don’t get a lot of practical experience"
Ben Aaronovich "Foxglove Summer"
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Фыва Прол
активист
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13 апреля 2015 г. 19:34 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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The Gods of the Copybook Headings
As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."
On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."
In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
Rudyard Kipling, 1919
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Aryan
миродержец
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Aryan
миродержец
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_fEnIkS_
философ
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21 апреля 2015 г. 23:39 [нажмите здесь чтобы увидеть текст поста]
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"You're waiting for a train. A train that will take you far away. You know where you hope this train will take you, but you don't know for sure. Yet it doesn't matter, because we'll be together."
Inception
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Зачем люди падают? Чтобы научиться затем подниматься |
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цитировать
