4
" Todo lo que puedo hacer es esperar, dejar pasar los días. El tiempo no lo cura todo, esa es una mentira que se repiten los que están desesperados por olvidar, pero sí consigue poner en espera los sentimientos y las emociones. Apartas los recuerdos y los recluyes en una zona de tu mente a la que, con suerte, solo accedes en esas noches en las que te cuesta conciliar el sueño. Al final, logras vivir y seguir adelante aunque sepas que hay una parte de ti que malvive como puede. Haces balance y llegas a la conclusión de que eres más o menos feliz, y procuras no mirar atrás. "
― Victoria Vilchez , No me quieres, no te quiero (Quiéreme, #1)
5
" «Proprio un elfo snob doveva toccarmi in sorte?» le rispose divertito. «Allora, non mi rimane altra scelta che portarti in campeggio, prima o poi, o in canoa o a fare una nuotata nel lago.»
Lei lo fissò con la sua più riuscita espressione Scordartelo disegnata sul volto.
«Puoi guardarmi come vuoi, ma mai dire mai» ridacchiò lui.
«Oh, invece mai è una delle mie parole preferite.»
«Scommetto che ti piacerebbe…»
«Cosa?»
«Il campeggio. Le stelle, il silenzio, le foglie che mormorano al vento, sai, quelle cose lì.»
«Per non parlare di orsi, insetti e magari di qualche serpente che ha perso la strada di casa. Mi vengono i brividi solo a pensarci. Sono un elfo cittadino a tutti gli effetti e ho il terrore di tutto ciò che si muove e che non sia addomesticabile.»
Lui la fissò con aria divertita. «Incluso il sottoscritto?»
Le si era avvicinato troppo e ora la fissava come se volesse divorarla, in modo così sfacciato che, per puro istinto di sopravvivenza, arretrò di un passo. Non abbassò lo sguardo ma per qualche attimo non seppe cosa rispondergli. Non che avesse dubbi che la categoria esseri viventi non addomesticabili e pericolosi includesse anche lui, almeno a dar retta a tutte quelle farfalle che le svolazzavano nello stomaco, ma come avrebbe potuto rispondergli sì? Così gli sorrise a sua volta, pronta all’ennesima bugia.
«Sono convinta, predatore, che tu, nonostante i grugniti e i continui brontolii e la tua probabile parentela con un grizzly, sia molto addomesticabile.»
Lui alzò un sopracciglio, con un’espressione da schiaffi da premio Oscar. "
― Viviana Giorgi , E infine la Bestia incontrò Bella
9
" - Padre Peregrine, non ti comporterai mai con un po' di serietà?- No, finché il nostro Signore benedetto non farà altrettanto. Ti prego, non fare quella faccia così terribilmente scandalizzata! Il Signore non è mai troppo serio. In effetti, è difficile dire che cos'altro sia, oltre a infinito amore. E l’amore più puro è anche letizia, non ti sembra? Non puoi amare nessuno, senza andare d’accordo con lui, e non puoi andare d’accordo con chiunque in qualunque momento, a meno di non ridere di lui bonariamente. E’ vero o no? Senza dubbio noi somigliamo a buffi animaletti che si rivoltano nella coppa della marmellata, e Dio deve amarci tanto più in quanto risvegliamo il Suo senso umoristico. "
12
" The Government set the stage economically by informing everyone that we were in a depression period, with very pointed allusions to the 1930s. The period just prior to our last 'good' war. ... Boiled down, our objective was to make killing and military life seem like adventurous fun, so for our inspiration we went back to the Thirties as well. It was pure serendipity. Inside one of the Scripter offices there was an old copy of Doc Smith's first LENSMAN space opera. It turned out that audiences in the 1970s were more receptive to the sort of things they scoffed at as juvenilia in the 1930s. Our drugs conditioned them to repeat viewings, simultaneously serving the ends of profit and positive reinforcement. The movie we came up with stroked all the correct psychological triggers. The fact that it grossed more money than any film in history at the time proved how on target our approach was.''Oh my God... said Jonathan, his mouth stalling the open position.'Six months afterward we ripped ourselves off and got secondary reinforcement onto television. We pulled a 40 share. The year after that we phased in the video games, experimenting with non-narcotic hypnosis, using electrical pulses, body capacitance, and keying the pleasure centers of the brain with low voltage shocks. Jesus, Jonathan, can you *see* what we've accomplished? In something under half a decade we've programmed an entire generation of warm bodies to go to war for us and love it. They buy what we tell them to buy. Music, movies, whole lifestyles. And they hate who we tell them to. ... It's simple to make our audiences slaver for blood; that past hasn't changed since the days of the Colosseum. We've conditioned a whole population to live on the rim of Apocalypse and love it. They want to kill the enemy, tear his heart out, go to war so their gas bills will go down! They're all primed for just that sort of denouemment, ti satisfy their need for linear storytelling in the fictions that have become their lives! The system perpetuates itself. Our own guinea pigs pay us money to keep the mechanisms grinding away. If you don't believe that, just check out last year's big hit movies... then try to tell me the target demographic audience isn't waiting for marching orders. (" Incident On A Rainy Night In Beverly Hills" ) "
13
" His heart cracked, and he fell in love. He wondered if she would marry him.
“Tu sei pazzo,” she told him with a pleasant laugh.
“Why am I crazy?” he asked.
“Perché non posso sposare.”
“Why can’t you get married?”
“Because I am not a virgin,” she answered.
“What has that got to do with it?”
“Who will marry me? No one wants a girl who is not a virgin.”
“I will. I’ll marry you.”
“Ma non posso sposarti.”
“Why can’t you marry me?”
“Perché sei pazzo.”
“Why am I crazy?”
“Perché vuoi sposarmi.”
Yossarian wrinkled his forehead with quizzical amusement. “You won’t marry me because I’m crazy, and you say I’m crazy because I want to marry you? Is that right?”
“Si.”
“Tu sei pazz’!” he told her loudly.
“Perché?” she shouted back at him indignantly, her unavoidable round breasts rising and falling in a saucy huff beneath the pink chemise as she sat up in bed indignantly. “Why am I crazy?”
“Because you won’t marry me.”
“Stupido!” she shouted back at him, and smacked him loudly and flamboyantly on the chest with the back of her hand. “Non posso sposarti! Non capisci? Non posso sposarti.”
“Oh, sure, I understand. And why can’t you marry me?”
“Perché sei pazzo!”
“And why am I crazy?”
“Perché vuoi sposarmi.”
“Because I want to marry you. Carina, ti amo,” he explained, and he drew her gently back down to the pillow. “Ti amo molto.”
“Tu sei pazzo,” she murmured in reply, flattered.
“Perché?”
“Because you say you love me. How can you love a girl who is not a virgin?”
“Because I can’t marry you.”
She bolted right up again in a threatening rage. “Why can’t you marry me?” she demanded, ready to clout him again if he gave an uncomplimentary reply. “Just because I am not a virgin?”
“No, no, darling. Because you’re crazy. "
― Joseph Heller , Catch-22
17
" If the good so loved and desired do appear possible and feasible in the attaining, then it exciteth the passion of hope, which is a compound of desire and expectation : when we look upon it as requiring our endeavour to attain it, and as it is to be had in a prescribed way, then it provokes the passion of courage or boldness, and concludes in resolution. Lastly, If this good be apprehended as preset, then ti provoketh to delight or joy. If the thing itself be present, the jy is greatest. If but the idea of it, either through the remainder or memory of the good that is past, or through the fore-apprehension of that which we expect, yet even this also exciteth our joy. And this joy is the perfection of all the rest of the affections, when it is raised on the full fruition of the good itself(575). "
― Richard Baxter , Godly Home
