G C Lichtenberg: “It is as if our languages were confounded: when we want a thought, they bring us a word; when we ask for a word, they give us a dash; and when we expect a dash, there comes a piece of bawdy.”
W H Auden: "But in my arms till break of day / Let the living creature lie. / Mortal, guilty, but to me/ The entirely beautiful."
Will Self: “To attempt to write seriously is always, I feel, to fail – the disjunction between my beautifully sonorous, accurate and painfully affecting mental content, and the leaden, halting sentences on the page always seems a dreadful falling short. It is this failure – a ceaseless threnody keening through the writing mind – that dominates my working life, just as an overweening sense of not having loved with enough depth or recklessness or tenderness dominates my personal one.”
John Gray: "Unlike Schopenhauer, who lamented the human lot, Leopardi believed that the best response to life is laughter. What fascinated Schopenhauer, along with many later writers, was Leopardi’s insistence that illusion is necessary to human happiness."
Art Spiegelman: "You know words in a way are hitting you on the left side of your brain, music and visual arts hit on the right side of the brain, so the idea is to pummel you, to send you from left brain to right brain and back until you're as unbalanced as I am."
विलास सारंग: "संदर्भ कुठलेही असोत, संस्कृत, इंग्रजी, बुद्धिवादी, तांत्रिक, इतिहासाचे, खगोलशास्त्राचे, आधुनिक पदार्थविज्ञानाचे, शिवकालीन व पेशवाईतील बखरीचे, अगणित ज्ञानक्षेत्रांचे, अशा वैविध्यपूर्ण ज्ञानावर लेखन- विशेषत: कवितालेखन- उभं राहत."
Monday, January 01, 2007
Stevie Smith (1903-1971)
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
Artist : James Stevenson published The New Yorker 19 Nov 1960
Pakistani cricketer Imran Khan (one of the handsomest men himself) considers her the most beautiful woman world has known. For me, Ginger Rogers is equally vivacious.
Marathi author Va Pu Kale has written few good stories. In one of them, protagonist in due course discovers Waheeda Rehman in his wife.
Don't we all remember the day our wife looked like Waheeda or Ginger?!
Artist: Barney Tobey publsihed : The New Yorker 31 Dec 1960
"Watch your tongue" is a constant refrain. I cannot lose my temper when he is awake. Why? Because "our son will follow you and use the same foul language which is not good for his future".
She thinks invoking our son's future is a clinching argument.
I sometimes think it is a clever ploy to shut me up for good...... what a drag.
Artist : Frank Modell Published: The New Yorker 19 March 1960
Artist : Joseph Mirachi Published The New Yorker June 25, 1960
In India democracy is alive and well most time kicking! Opposition opposes because they are in opposition. And even friendly fire from parties like communists is most times deadly.
If today non-congress parties were to be asked what they stand for, their honest answer would be whatever congress doesn't stand for. No more, no less.
But if we want to give it a positive spin to this behaviour, call it to "keep alive the multi-party democracy".