iz bırakan kitap cümleleri

başını yastığa koyduğun zaman hayal kurmak yerine sorunlarını düşünüyorsan, büyümüşsün demektir.

çatışmayı kazandım, ancak savaşı kaybettim.
(bkz: jennifer weiner - elveda hiç kimsem)

"don't you think it's pointless being bothered by the rain?"

amerikan çicekleri

"kafam cam kırıklarıyla dolu doktor. bu nedenle beynimin her hareketinde düşüncelerim acıyor, anlıyor musun? bütün hayatımca bu cam kırıklarını beyin zarımın üzerinde taşımak, ve onları oynatmadan son derece hesaplı düşünmek zorundayım.”
-oğuz atay (tehlikeli oyunlar)

polyanna benim yanımda eroinman bir fahişe kadar mutsuz kalır.

''sende bulduklarım değil
sende kaybettiklerimdir önemli olan...''

-aşkın gözyaşları-

Emevi Dönemi - ihsan süreyya sırma

Bir ülke ki alimleri hapsedilir ya da sultanların siyasetini onaylamadıkları için katledilirler , işte o ülke gerçeklerden korkan bir sömürü ülkesine dönüşmüştür artık .

Şah ismail'in Yavuz sultana yazığı söylenen mektupun şah sultan kitabındaki şu yansıması;
''yanındakilerinin senin için değil para için yanında olduklarını görmezmisin hala anasını eşşekler s..... selim''
sinir bozucu ve unutulmaz..

--spoiler--
"she remembered putting the plate carefully down on the gravelly ground and then starting to step on it and stopping, remembered taking off her plain cotton panties and putting them into the pocket where the plate had been, and then carefully slipping the first finger of her left hand carefully against the cut in her at the place where old stupid god had joined her and all other girls and women imperfectly, but somethng about that place must be right, because she remembered the jolt, remembered wanting to press, remembered not pressing, remembered how delicious her vagina had been naked, without the cotton panties in the way of it and the world, and she had not pressed, not until her shoe pressed, her black patent leather shoe, not until her shoe pressed down on the plate, then she pressed on the cut with her finger the way she was pressing on the blue woman's forspecial china plate with her foot, she remembered the way black patent leather shoe covered the delicate blue webbing on the edge of the plate, she remembered the press, yes, she remembered the pressing in the drawers, pressing with finger and foot, remembered the delicious promise of finger and cut, remembered that when the plate snapped with a bitter brittle snap a similar bitter pleasure had skewered upward from that cut into her guts like an arrow, she remembered the cry which had broken from her lips, an unpleasant cawing like the sound of a crow sacred up from a cornpatch, she could remember staring dully at the fragments of the plate and then taking the plain white cotton slowly out of her dress and putting them on again, step-ins, so she had heard them called in some time unhoused in memory and drifting loose like turves on a flood-tide, step-ins, good, because first you stepped out to do your business and then you stepped back in, first one shiny patent leather shoe and then the other, good, panties were good, she could remember drawing them up her legs so clearly, drawing them past her knees, a scab on the left one almost ready to fall off and leave clean pink new babyskin, yes, she could remember so clearly it might not have been a week ago or yesterday but only one single moment ago, she could remember how the waistband had reached the hem of her party dress, the clear contrast of white cotton against brown skin, like cream, yes, like that, cream from a pitcher caught suspended over coffee, the texture, the panties disappearing under the hem of the dress, except then the dress was burnt orange and the panties were not going up but down but they were still white but not cotton, they were nylon, cheap see-through nylon panties, cheap in more ways than one, and she remembered stepping out of them, she remembered how they glimmered on the floormat of '46 dodge desoto, yes, how white they were, how cheap they were, not anything but cheap panties, the girl was cheap and it was good to be cheap, good to be on sale, to be on the block not even like a whore but like a good breedsow; she remembered no round china plate but the round white face of a a boy, some surprised drunk fraternity boy, he was no china plate but his face was as round as the blue woman's china plate had been, and there was webbing on his cheeks, and this webbing looked as blue as the webbing on the blue woman's forspecial china plate had been, but that was only because the neon was red, the neon was garish, in the dark the neon from the roadhouse sign made the spreading blood from the places on his cheecks where she had clawed him look blue, and he had said why did you why did you why did you do, and then he unrolled the window so he could get his face outside to puke and she remembered having dodie stevens on the jukebox, singing about tan shoes with pink shoelaces and a big panama with a purple hatband, she remembered the sound of his puking was like gravel in a cement mixer, and his penis, which moments before had been a livid exclamation point rising from the tufted tangle of his public hair, was collapsing into a weak white question mark; she remembered the hoarse gravel sounds of his vomiting stopped and started again and she thought well i guess he ain't made enough to lay this foundation yet and laughing and pressing her finger (which now came equipped with a long shaped nail) against her vagina which was bare but no longer bare because it was overgrown with its own coarse briared tangle, and there had been the same brittle breaking snap inside her, and it was still as much pain as it was pleasure (but better, far better, than nothing at all), and then he was grabbing blindly for her and saying in a hurt breaking tone oh you goddamned nigger cunt and she went on laughing just the same, dodging him easily and snatching up her panties and opening the door on her side of the car, feeling the last blind thud of his fingers on the back of her blouse as she ran into a may night that was redolent of early honeysuckle, red-pink neon light stuttering off the gravel of some postwar parking lot, stuffing her panties, her cheap slick nylon panties not into the pocket of her dress but into a purse jumbled with a teenager's cheerful conglomeration of cosmetics, she was running, the light was stuttering, and then she was 23 and it was not panties but a rayon scarf, and she was casually slipping it into her purse as she walked along a counter in the nice notions section of macy's - a scarf which sold at that time for $1.99.
cheap.
cheap like the white nylon panties.
cheap.
like her."
--spoiler--

the drawing of the three - stephen king

''sevmek, bir insanı sevmekle başlar her şey. burada her şey insanı sevmekle bitiyor.''

sait faik abasıyanık - alemdağı nda var bir yılan

özgürlük, 2*2=4 diyebilmekti özgürlük.
george orwell-1984

belki de susmak,gerçeği anlatmanın tek yoluydu.
ihsan oktay anar-suskunlar

Zaman bilindigi gibi bazen kus gibi ucar, bazen de solucan gibi surunerek gecer. insan en cok zamanin agir mi, yoksa cabuk mu gectigini farketmedigi an kendisini iyi hisseder.
Babalar ve ogullar - turgenyev

Şimdi yoksun ... şimdi ölümünün kararını kendin almak için yokluğunu verdin bana...

çirkin olan güzel olandan daha güzeldi. -Morfin.

sevgilim...
meğer her ayrılık cesur bir bedelmiş. ama şuanda hatırlayamasamda sakın dudaklarını unutmamı bekleme benden. bir diyet gerekiyorsa eğer, artık makarna yemem.
komik değil mi? gül o zaman, sen hepgül... -yekta kopan/ kediler güzel uyanır.

işte bu sohbetimizi biraz kısaltabilir. - ismini hatırlayamadığım bir kitap.

--spoiler--
soyulduğunuzu anlamamışsanız ve kimse de size söylememişse, soyulmamışsınız demektir.
--spoiler--

shakespeare
othello

elif şafak-iskender

'bir oğlan çocuğundan erkek çıkaracak iki şey vardır bu dünyada. unutma! birincisi bir kadının aşkıdır. ikincisi de başka bir adamın nefreti.'

Sabahattin Ali - Kürk Mantolu Madonna

--spoiler--
Hayatta yalnız kalmanın esas olduğunu hala kabul edemiyor musunuz? bütün yakınlaşmalar, bütün birleşmeler yalancıdır. insanlar ancak muayyen bir hadde kadar birbirlerine sokulabilirler, üst tarafını uydururlar; ve günün birinde hatalarını anlayınca, yeislerinden herşeyi bırakıp kaçarlar.
--spoiler--

Bağımlılıktan nefret ettim. Gitmemi, terk etmemi engeller diye. Ne bir maddeye, ne de bir insana bağlandım."

-Hakan Günday // Kinyas ve Kayra-

Temizlenmenin yolu çamurda yuvarlanmak değildir.

Paslı şamdanın içindeki mum, kederli bir ışıkla, biraz önce çok garip bir şekilde incil okuyan fahişeyle katili aydınlatıyordu,, ''Suç ve Ceza''

"Fakat, Allah kahretsin, insan anlatmak istiyor albayım; böyle budalaca bir özleme kapılıyor. Bir yandan da hiç konuşmak istemiyor. Tıpkı oyunlardaki gibi çelişik duyguların altında eziliyor. Fakat benim de sevmeye hakkım yok mu albayım? ... Kelimeler... Kelimeler albayım, bazı anlamlara gelmiyor." Oğuz Atay/ Tehlikeli Oyunlar

Ölürsem beni seninle anarlar şimdi.