1
" Take bread away from me, if you wish,take air away, butdo not take from me your laughter.Do not take away the rose,the lance flower that you pluck,the water that suddenlybursts forth in joy,the sudden waveof silver born in you.My struggle is harsh and I come backwith eyes tiredat times from having seenthe unchanging earth,but when your laughter entersit rises to the sky seeking meand it opens for me allthe doors of life.My love, in the darkesthour your laughteropens, and if suddenlyyou see my blood stainingthe stones of the street,laugh, because your laughterwill be for my handslike a fresh sword.Next to the sea in the autumn,your laughter must raiseits foamy cascade,and in the spring, love,I want your laughter likethe flower I was waiting for,the blue flower, the roseof my echoing country.Laugh at the night,at the day, at the moon,laugh at the twistedstreets of the island,laugh at this clumsyfool who loves you,but when I openmy eyes and close them,when my steps go,when my steps return,deny me bread, air,light, spring,but never your laughter. "
3
" The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies heonly appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people tocry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always willexist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just that way we canlook at a stretch of the Rocky Mountains, for instance. They can see how permanent allthe moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just anillusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on astring, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever.'When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in a badcondition in that particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of othermoments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say whatthe Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is " so it goes. "
6
" Inside, Harrison came face to face with
a small man wearing immense plus fours.
“Looking for someone?” asked the small man.
“Yes, the fire chief.”
“Who’s he?”
By now prepared for this sort of thing, Harrison
spoke as one would to a child. “See here, Mister, this
is a fire-fighting outfit. Somebody bosses it. Somebody
organizes the whole affair, fills forms, presses
buttons, shouts orders, recommends promotions,
kicks the shiftless, grabs all the credit, transfers all
the blame and generally lords it around. He’s the
most important man in the bunch and everybody
knows it.” His forefinger tapped imperatively on the
other’s chest. “And he is the fellow I’m going to talk
to if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Nobody is more important than anyone else.
How can he be? I think you’re crazy.”
“You’re welcome to think what you please but I
am telling you that—.”
A shrill bell clamoured, cutting off his sentence. "
― Eric Frank Russell , The Great Explosion
11
" Yawn...
I believe that I love sleep
much more than anybody I’ve ever
met.
I have the ability to sleep for
2 or 3 days and
nights.
I will go to bed at any given
moment.
I often confused my girlfriends
this way—
say it would be about onethirty
in the afternoon:
“well, I’m going to bed now, I’m
going to sleep…”
most of them wouldn’t mind, they
would go to bed with me
thinking I was hinting for
sex
but I would just turn my back
and snore off.
this, of course, could explain
why so many of my girlfriends
left me.
as for doctors, they were never
any help:
“listen, I have this desire to
go to bed and sleep, almost all
the time.
what is wrong with
me?”
“do you get enough exercise?”
“yes…”
“are you getting enough
nourishment?”
“yes…”
they always handed me a
prescription
which I threw away
between the office and the
parking lot.
it’s a curious malady
because I can’t sleep between
6 p.m. and midnight.
it must occur after
midnight
and when I arise
it can never be
before noon.
and should the phone ring
say at 10:30 a.m.
I go into a mad rage
don’t even ask who the caller
is
scream into the
phone: “WHAT ARE YOU
CALLING ME FOR AT THIS
HOUR!”
hang
up…
every person, I suppose, has
their eccentricities
but in an effort to be
normal
in the world’s
eye
they overcome them
and therefore
destroy their
special calling.
I’ve kept mine
and do believe that
they have lent generously to
my existence.
I think it’s the main reason I
decided to become a
writer: I can type
anytime and
sleep
when I damn well
please. "
― Charles Bukowski
12
" Today you are young.your beauty attract every man
But the day when you will feel older yourself
when you will feel magic of body vanish
On that day time will remind you,that man who fall in love with your soul
but you will not find him,because you killed him in All
The day when you will feel wrinkles on your skin
and will understand,no one want to touch it,not soft any more
On that day time will remind that man
who die for aroma of your skin,for him its always remain best fragrance
But you will not find him, because you killed him by your ignorance
The day you will feel,you are now not able to feed sex hunger
and you will understand men around you but not with you
On that day time will remind you that man
who never hungry for your body,who just feed love and emotions
to your soul and to your heart
But you will not find him,because,
you killed him by put your betrayed knife in his heart
maybe it will not happen,maybe your life will full of love
maybe you will never remember past.maybe you will forget All
But on the day when you will die,and your loving people will bury you
inside your grave,when you will realize,
all that who loves you,all that with you spend days & nights
all that for whom you cooked you serve,all that whose bed you warm
all that who impress by your beauty,all that who claim to love you
they all buried you here alone and gone
in that your loneliness,time will remind you,that man
who just dream to lay with you inside your grave,
who dream to bury together in one grave
But you will not find him
That day will realize you,whom you killed
That day will realize you,you killed a man
who don't wanted to be just partner of you life but to partner of your death
who don't wanted to be just partner of your bed but to partner of your grave
Then you will realize you betrayed killed,partner of your grave
Partner Of Your Grave, "
― Mohammed Zaki Ansari , "Zaki's Gift Of Love"
