Fragmente interesante librash

[EXODUS]

Sec mu kujtua per dreq. Heren e fundit kur isha ne allbenia, me ra ne dore nje liber i Markezit - "Kujtime kurvash te trishta" me fragmente nga ato më interesantet qe kam lexuar ndonjehere.

Meqe ra fjala: ju'a sugjeroj....te gjitheve!

[Fiori]

Sec mu kujtua per dreq. Heren e fundit kur isha ne allbenia, me ra ne dore nje liber i Markezit - "Kujtime kurvash te trishta" me fragmente nga ato më interesantet qe kam lexuar ndonjehere.

Meqe ra fjala: ju'a sugjeroj....te gjitheve!

Ketu gjen nje pjese te shkurter ne anglisht. Gjithashtu po kerkove ne forum ka me shume pjese ne shqip.

[CatWoman]

"What is art?" - she asked.
"It is a malady."
"Love?"
"An Illusion."
"Religion?"
"The fashionable substitute for belief."
"You are a sceptic."
"Never! Scepticism is the beginning of faith."
"What are you?"
"To define is to limit."
"Give me a clue."
"Threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth."
"You bewilder me..."

Lord Henry tek "the Picture of Dorian Gray"--Oscar Wilde

ahhh...nje nga pjeset me te bukura te librit. Cupke, akoma se vendos dot se cilit i pershtatet me shume Wilde: Henry-t apo Dorian-it? Them Henry eshte alter-ego i tij sepe i pelqen shume paradoksi dhe kontradikta :P what do you think.

[Pedro]

ja nje fragment prej asaj, qe bashke me "Komedia Hyjnore" e Dantes, eshte vepra me e bukur letrare e rrjedhur nga mendja dhe e shkruar nga dora e nje njeriu
Goethes Faust

faust
..................................................
Zum Augenblicke dürft' ich sagen:
Verweile doch, du bist so schön!
Es kann die Spur von meinen Erdetagen
Nicht in äonen untergehn. -
Im Vorgefühl von solchem hohen Glück
Genieß' ich jetzt den höchsten Augenblick.

mephistopheles
Ihn sättigt keine Lust, ihm gnügt kein Glück,
So buhlt er fort nach wechselnden Gestalten;
Den letzten, schlechten, leeren Augenblick,
Der Arme wünscht ihn festzuhalten.
Der mir so kräftig widerstand,
Die Zeit wird Herr, der Greis hier liegt im Sand.
Die Uhr steht still - +

chor
Steht still! Sie schweigt wie Mitternacht.
Der Zeiger fällt. +

mephistopheles
Er fällt, es ist vollbracht.

chor
Es ist vorbei. +

mephistopheles
Vorbei! ein dummes Wort.
Warum vorbei?
Vorbei und reines Nicht, vollkommnes Einerlei!
Was soll uns denn das ew'ge Schaffen!
Geschaffenes zu nichts hinwegzuraffen!
"Da ist's vorbei!" Was ist daran zu lesen?
Es ist so gut, als wär' es nicht gewesen,
Und treibt sich doch im Kreis, als wenn es wäre.
Ich liebte mir dafür das Ewig-Leere.

Ah, muzike hyjnore per veshet tane profane!

[Larsus]

do luhet ne NY me dy pjese kjo .. ne anglisht, sigurisht.

[Cupke_pe_Korce]

ahhh...nje nga pjeset me te bukura te librit. Cupke, akoma se vendos dot se cilit i pershtatet me shume Wilde: Henry-t apo Dorian-it? Them Henry eshte alter-ego i tij sepe i pelqen shume paradoksi dhe kontradikta :P what do you think.

I think neither. Doriani ishte endrra e tmerruar e nje epoke; Lord Henri ish Mefistofeli, vecse edhe pse i tille, nuk e njihte mire jeten. Wilde ishte mendjefemer. ;)

Kaq me shijoi libri sa kur e mbarova u ndjeva perseri e uritur. C'te beja? Ju futa "A Rebours" te J.K. Huysmans qe e gelltita rembimthi, dhe sikur kjo te mos ish mjaft, ca meze nga Mallarme mend me lane pa fryme. E, qe te mos mbytesha fare, i futa ca vere nga Baudelaire edhe top ne vend une. Mbaj mend qe ish dimer, dhe duhet te jem zgjuar andej nga pranvera. Kisha shpetuar paq me duket, megjithese tani isha "broke" fare. no gut, no gut :)

[Dara]

A Modest Proposal (Satire)

For Preventing The Children of Poor People in Ireland
From Being Aburden to Their Parents or Country, and
For Making Them Beneficial to The Public
By Jonathan Swift


..."I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled ...”

..."I have reckoned upon a medium that a child just born will weigh 12 pounds, and in a solar year, if tolerably nursed, increaseth to 28 pounds.

I grant this food will be somewhat dear, and therefore very proper for landlords, who, as they have already devoured most of the parents, seem to have the best title to the children.

Infant's flesh will be in season throughout the year, but more plentiful in March, and a little before and after; for we are told by a grave author, an eminent French physician, that fish being a prolific diet, there are more children born in Roman Catholic countries about nine months after Lent than at any other season; therefore, reckoning a year after Lent, the markets will be more glutted than usual, because the number of popish infants is at least three to one in this kingdom: and therefore it will have one other collateral advantage, by lessening the number of papists among us.

I have already computed the charge of nursing a beggar's child (in which list I reckon all cottagers, laborers, and four-fifths of the farmers) to be about two shillings per annum, rags included; and I believe no gentleman would repine to give ten shillings for the carcass of a good fat child, which, as I have said, will make four dishes of excellent nutritive meat, when he hath only some particular friend or his own family to dine with him. Thus the squire will learn to be a good landlord, and grow popular among his tenants; the mother will have eight shillings net profit, and be fit for work till she produces another child.

Those who are more thrifty (as I must confess the times require) may flay the carcass; the skin of which artificially dressed will make admirable gloves for ladies, and summer boots for fine gentlemen.

As to our city of Dublin, shambles may be appointed for this purpose in the most convenient parts of it, and butchers we may be assured will not be wanting; although I rather recommend buying the children alive, and dressing them hot from the knife, as we do roasting pigs.

A very worthy person, a true lover of his country, and whose virtues I highly esteem, was lately pleased in discoursing on this matter to offer a refinement upon my scheme. He said that many gentlemen of this kingdom, having of late destroyed their deer, he conceived that the want of venison might be well supplied by the bodies of young lads and maidens, not exceeding fourteen years of age nor under twelve; so great a number of both sexes in every country being now ready to starve for want of work and service; and these to be disposed of by their parents, if alive, or otherwise by their nearest relations. But with due deference to so excellent a friend and so deserving a patriot, I cannot be altogether in his sentiments; for as to the males, my American acquaintance assured me, from frequent experience, that their flesh was generally tough and lean, like that of our schoolboys by continual exercise, and their taste disagreeable; and to fatten them would not answer the charge. Then as to the females, it would, I think, with humble submission be a loss to the public, because they soon would become breeders themselves; and besides, it is not improbable that some scrupulous people might be apt to censure such a practice (although indeed very unjustly), as a little bordering upon cruelty; which, I confess, hath always been with me the strongest objection against any project, however so well intended..."
..."I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the public good of my country, by advancing our trade, providing for infants, relieving the poor, and giving some pleasure to the rich. I have no children by which I can propose to get a single penny; the youngest being nine years old, and my wife past child-bearing."

[Dara]

"They carried malaria tablets, love letters, 28 pound mine detectors, dope, illustrated Bibles, each other. And, if they made it home alive, they carried unrelenting images of nightmarish war that history is only begining to absorb."
-"The Things They Carried" shkruar nga Tim O'Brien.

Libri konsiderohet si "Testamenti i Vietnamit". Ka fituar cmimin "Prix du Meilleur Livre Etranger, midis shume te tjerave. Liber shume prekes edhe emocionues. Me pelqevi se tepermi.

[Fiori]

"The Selfish Gene" nga Richard Dawkins...


"Intelligent life on a planet comes of age when it first works out the reason for its own existence. If superior creatures from space ever visit earth, the first question they will ask, in order to access the level of our civilization, is "Have they discovered evolution yet?"...."

Librin e kam lexuar para dy vjetesh, e rekomanduar nga nje shok qe besonte se une e kisha kete gen te koncentruar : ) Ne fund, une e lexova librin dhe kuptohet nuk ndryshova fare, por te pakten ne mbetem deri sot shok te mire...

Sot rastesisht po kerkoja dicka tjeter ne google dhe gjeta kete lidhje ku ju mund te lexoni pjese te librit.


Pershendetje

[Leila]

"... 2. He is ready to die at every moment. Mussolini lives in a tragic atmosphere. To us who have no faith, to us pretty rationalists, all his poses appear theatrical. But to Mussolini they are genuine and he feels them tragically, with romanticism and a profound fever of excitement. An indifferent thinker feels contempt because the critical mind sees only the critical aspect that tragic events always have when we, ourselves, do not suffer along with them. But Mussolini is not playacting in the theatrical moment. He lives, suffers, holds up his will and envisions. Simply and tragically, he took his mission seriously: to save Italy...."

"... People who believe in an idea are of three types:
(a). Those who are not troubled by past beauties -- because they do not know of them or understand them. They do not hear the voice of a Siren. Without fear of straying, they fight the daily battle narrowly, fanatically and productively.
(b). Those who know and love the past beauties and are charmed by all of life's faces and know that her last face also -- today's idea -- is similarly ephemeral and relative. Knowledgeable, weary, sensuous, they fold their hands and listen to the Siren.
(c). Those who know and love the past beauties and for one brief frightfully intense moment are charmed by the old song, but forcefully tear themselves away and continue the journey, snatching up the Siren in their memory. Of necessity they urgently proclaim the relative present-day truths and continue to struggle like the first group, after having been gladdened for a moment like the second...."

Nikos Kazantzakis, JOURNEYING.