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.”
H. P. Lovecraft: "What a man does for pay is of little significance. What he is, as a sensitive instrument responsive to the world's beauty, is everything!"
Martin Amis: “Gogol is funny, Tolstoy in his merciless clarity is funny, and Dostoyevsky, funnily enough, is very funny indeed; moreover, the final generation of Russian literature, before it was destroyed by Lenin and Stalin, remained emphatically comic — Bunin, Bely, Bulgakov, Zamyatin. The novel is comic because life is comic (until the inevitable tragedy of the fifth act);...”
Werner Herzog: “We are surrounded by worn-out, banal, useless and exhausted images, limping and dragging themselves behind the rest of our cultural evolution.”
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."
Justin E.H. Smith: “One should of course take seriously serious efforts to improve society. But when these efforts fail, in whole or in part, it is only humor that offers redemption. So far, human expectations have always been strained, and have always come, give or take a bit, to nothing. In this respect reality itself has the form of a joke, and humor the force of truth.”
विलास सारंग: "… इ. स. 1000 नंतर ज्या प्रकारची संस्कृती रुढ झाली , त्यामध्ये साधारणत्व व विश्वात्मकता हे गुण प्राय: लुप्त झाले...आपली संस्कृती अकाली विश्वात्मक साधारणतेला मुकली आहे."
Saturday, February 16, 2008
I am grateful to him for the entertainment he provided. He probably was not in the same league as Johny Walker, Om Prakash, Mehmood and Kishore Kumar but was close second.
Many times I have tried to walk like him, wearing the same “stupid” smile he wore doing it. No one laughed except my mother.
I have lost the count of number of films he acted in.
Only the other day, I saw him performing in Chhoti Si Baat (1975) where he played a cameo so well that my thirteen-year-old son burst into laughing
Talk of longevity of an actor.
Whenever I saw him, I knew my money was not entirely lost. He stood his ground in the company of likes of Dev Anand (Jab Pyar Kisi Se Hota Hai, 1961) and Shammi Kapoor (An Evening in Paris, 1967) quite effortlessly.
Thank you, Mr. Nath.
Artist: C W Anderson The New Yorker 21 June 1930