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1 " You just sit there and tolerate it, the same way everything in this country is tolerated. Every deception, every lie, every bullet in the brains. Just as you are already tolerating bullets in the brains that will be implemented only after the bullet is put in your brains. "
― Imre Kertész , Liquidation
2 " Kurti had believed in politics, and politics had deceived him, the way politics deceives everyone. "
3 " Man, when reduced to nothing, or in other words a survivor, is not tragic but comic, because he has no fate. "
4 " Kingbitter, as he did frequently nowadays, was standing at his window and looking out onto the street below. This street offered the most mundane and ordinary sights of Budapest's mundane and ordinary streets. The muck-, oil-, and dog-dirt-spattered sidewalk was lined with parked cars, and in the one-yard gaps between the cars and the leprotically peeling house walls the most mundane and ordinary passersby were attempting to go about their business, their hostile features an outward clue to their dark thoughts. Every now and then, perhaps in a hurry to overtake the single file inching along the front, one of them would step off the sidewalk, only for an entire chorus of rancorous car horns to give the lie to any groundless hope of breaking free from the line. "
5 " Writers sometimes cast themselves into the most profound depths of despair in order to master it and move on.A person’s true means of expression is his life. Living the shame of life and maintaining silence, that was the greatest accomplishment of all. "
6 " Des quantités de livres dorment ainsi en moi, des bons et des mauvais, de tout genre. Des phrases, des mots, des alinéas et des vers qui, pareils à des locataires remuants, reviennent brusquement à la vie, errent solitaires ou entament dans ma tête de bruyants bavardages que je suis incapable de faire taire. "
7 " I believe in writing — nothing else; just writing. Man may live like a worm, but he writes like a god. There was a time when that secret was known, but now it has been forgotten; the world is composed of disintegrating fragments, an incoherent dark chaos, sustained by writing alone. "
8 " La lecture est comme une drogue qui confère un agréable flou au cruels contours de la vie. "
9 " Έβλεπα τα παπούτσια, τοποθετημένα με προσοχή σαν μουσειακά εκθέματα, τις βαλίτσες, τους σωρούς με τα ανθρώπινα μαλλιά και δεν κατάφερα να νιώσω να με συνδέει κάτι με όλα αυτά, δεν κατάφερα μέσα σε όλα αυτά να δω τα δικά μου παπούτσια, τις δικές μου βαλίτσες, τα δικά μου μαλλιά. "
10 " Je crois en l’écriture. En rien d’autre, seulement en l’écriture. L’homme vit comme un ver mais écrit comme un dieu. Autrefois, on connaissait ce mystère oublié de nos jours : le monde se compose de tessons qui s’éparpillent, c’est un obscur chaos incohérent que seule l’écriture peut maintenir. Si tu as une idée du monde, si tu n’as pas oublié tout ce qui s’est passé, alors sache que c’est l’écriture qui a créé pour toi le simple fait que tu as un monde et qu’elle continue à le faire, elle est la toile d’araignée invisible qui relie nos vies, le logos. "