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Famous Louis Yako Quotes

“I always had a problem with the worn-out saying ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’ The saying is not only harsh, but it lacks depth. It does not consider that many people become poor precisely because of making courageous choices for which they pay a high price—poverty. Indeed, many people are not poor but impoverished precisely because they refuse to play the game and participate in the unjust and unhealthy system we have in place. The point is not about being able or unable to choose. It is about what kind of choices one makes.”

“As the taxi moved, I started checking out all the new buildings and streets. It was clear that whereas some people had gotten better off, others were worse off or had simply stagnated. Infrastructure reveals so much about a place and its culture, politics, and people. The disparities between the poor and the rich neighborhoods…show that ‘time’ was not ticking at the same pace for everyone. Time was not moving favorably for everyone. Even time is like power in that it moves some people forward, some backward, and some to the sides and the margins. Time also buries some people under the ground.”

“The Eternal Friends The three eternal friends, Time, Loneliness and Death, met at a small old café. 'You won’t last long. I will destroy you at the end,' said Time to Loneliness. 'And I will drain every minute and every second in your life. Nothing will give you joy no matter what you do or how hard you try,' Loneliness responded. After a short silence, once Death pronounced its sentence, Loneliness vanished and Time passed. June 20, 2013”

“بينما كنت أشاهد صوراً التقطها عبر السنين اتضح لي بأني اعشق الأبواب العتيقة ... فأنا ابحث عنها في كل مكان لأصورها وأتأملها ... فتجدني أتخيل بأن لهذه الأبواب عيون وأتسأل عن كل ما رأته من الخارج وعن كل ما مر بها عن كل من مر منها ومن أمامها ... أضيع في رحيلي وأنا أتخيل كل ما دار خلفها من أفراح وأتراح من غنى وعوز من نفاق ونميمة من أيام مملة وكئيبة عاشها ساكنيها خلفها وهي ومغلقة .. وتراني اتأمل في تصاميم أبواب من أزمان مختلفة وفي أماكن مختلفة.. بعضها ينم عن ذوق سيء زاده مرور الزمن سوءاً ... وأتخيل كيف ظن أهلها يومها بأنها أجمل ما كان! وبعضها – الأكثر عتقاً – تبدو وكأنها تزداد جمالاً بمرور الزمن ... وكأن القبح والجمال غير ثابتان ... ام تراه قصور في العين البشرية التي لا تميز بين الجمال الحقيقي والقبح الحقيقي إلا بعد فوات الآوان؟ بعض الأبواب معدنية ويملؤها الصدأ بشكل يشبه تآكل قيم ومبادئ البشر، بعضها خشبي ورغم الثقوب والحفر المتناثرة عليها، تراها لازالت توحي بالدفء والأمان .. بعض هذه الأبواب العتيقة لم تعد تفتح إلا للسواح بعضها أجبر اهلها على تركها دون رجعة بعضها الآخر تفتح من حين لآخر لزوار سريين لا يعرفهم احد ولا نعرف ماذا يفعلون خلفها بعد دخولهم ... وما أكثر الأبواب العتيقة المحاطة بسلاسل وأقفال صدئة ابتلع الزمن اهلها ومفاتيحها .. وكم تحزنني الأبواب العتيقة والجميلة التي أضعنا مفاتيحها إلى الأبد بسبب طيشنا وحماقاتنا ...”

“Happy New Year? Oh, dear friends, this statement is like a dagger that gets pushed one inch deeper into my chest each time I hear it…Oh, my friends, let’s not celebrate the traditional holidays that no longer mean anything to many of us. Let’s find a new celebration day to celebrate every human life. Let’s do away with all celebrations imposed on us by the oppressive political and religious establishments around the world. Let’s stop killing each other. Let’s stop waging wars against each other. Let’s stop imposing economic sanctions on each other. Let’s stop closing borders in the face of each other. Let’s do away with all the fake, expensive, shiny, and nicely wrapped gifts of indifference. Let’s work a bit harder on the most precious human gift possible—the gift of listening carefully to each other.”

“Those in power love it when we hold on to our fake optimism year after year, instead of revolting against these worn out celebrations. They love it when they see millions of mindless consumers storming stores to buy and consume more shiny and glittering gifts, as if they are genuine signs of loving and caring for each other. They love it when we keep quiet and do business as usual while ‘hoping for a better new year.’ So, let’s declare it loud and clear: We are not happy! Also, there is nothing new with these traditional celebrations hijacked by businessmen who have reduced them into nothing more than an excuse for consuming goods.”

“Language is a living being that grows and dies. It can be healthy, sick, nurtured, or malnourished. It all depends on those using it. Just as in you are what you eat, it is even more precise to say you are what you say, what you read, and what you write…language can turn into a prison or a set of wings that can help us fly. It all depends on how we use it to challenge, expand, and question every single word we utter or write. Language is the beginning and the end of what makes us human. The language we do remains alive way after we depart this world. Language is in our mothers’ first lullaby, the first time we tell someone ‘I love you’, and we often talk about the significance of someone’s last words before they died. Therefore, we cannot decolonize anything, least of all knowledge production, if we do not examine why we say the things we say and how we get to internalize and express the things that shape our lives. In fact, language is truly the only home that remains even in exile when all else is lost.”

“Shocks and Joys" The biggest shocks in life were: That freedom is a lie Choosing chains carefully is more important than chasing illusions… That family and relatives are but a hit or miss biological coincidence… That life isn’t short as they claim for those who understand the game… That there is no friend in need, but indeed, need is the only constant friend… The biggest joys in life were: The smell of a freshly baked loaf of bread A sip of water The depth of a word The taste of a fresh fig The silence and tunes of nature The unexpected scent of a rose that tickles the nose after having fallen in the abyss of despair… [Original poem published in Arabic on March 9, 2023 at ahewar.org]”

“I’m red poppy from the mountains of the homeland The winds are my tunes The thunder is my voice When I object what is going on… Rains are my tears When I’m speechless The gushing sounds of water Are my hearty songs… *** I’m red poppy from the mountains of the homeland When I welt, I shall leave smiling And assured that my seeds Shall create vast meadows of wildflowers For future generations Wiser than you and I…”

“It is extremely disturbing to live in a society that sees older people as a burden rather than rich experiences to benefit from and build upon. Older people can act as the memory that can help us make sense of what was, what is, and what could and should be. I see that in the U.S. older people are not only made invisible in a culture obsessed with youth and superficial physical appearances, but often their insights, experiences, and perspectives are dismissed as ‘nostalgic’ or as outright ‘ignorant’ using the ‘generational gap’ as a pretext.”

“The Meaning of 'Home' As I travel from one city to another From one country to another From one sorrow to another, I encounter thousands of faces: In streets, shops, parks, and cafés. They all ask me the same painful question: 'Where are you from?' As if they know, I am from a place that lost itself and lost me On a long, cold, and sad winter night. They ask me: 'What is your country known for?' I tell them: 'My country is known for exporting sad stories, refugees, and displaced people. All those who were cursed by being born in it.' Similar questions continue to be asked in cocktail parties, In hypocritical and mediocre gatherings, In conferences and boring meetings. Some pretentiously ask me: 'How do you define "home"?' I respond with Ghassan Knafani’s words ringing in my ears: 'Home is for all of this not to happen.' April 19, 2014”

“Being customers in our society is dangerous. It alienates us from each other. People will prefer to spend long and lonely hours in front of the TV watching life but never really living. We must honestly ask ourselves this question: Why do we allow ourselves to become a society where neighbors or people in the same neighborhood will only find a reason to talk with each other when their dogs sniff each other by chance? Even then, the talk is just superficial and all about the weather or the pets! Why do we allow ourselves to live in a culture where many people believe that their pets are their best friends because they ‘don’t judge me’ or ‘they love me unconditionally,’ as many like to explain? If we live in a society where the only creature who can understand, love, or support us is our pet, then perhaps we have some serious problems to confront, with all respect to the dogs’ wonderful company and friendship (I have a pet also). Perhaps we need a serious change.”

“Retirement can be the loneliest period in life. It is a period in which one suddenly feels irrelevant and like an outcast. Many people only exist insofar as their connection to or validation through their work. Millions of Americans, for the sake of making living, they cannot even afford nurturing relationships with family and friends. Their work schedules keep them totally isolated and lonely. By the time they retire, it suddenly dawns on them that they almost have nobody left now that their coworkers are history.”

“(Beware of Strangers) As children, we are taught to beware of strangers, to refrain from approaching them. As we grow older, we learn that no one is stranger than those we thought we’d known all our lives. We learn that a stranger may carry more empathy, and understand us more deeply, and that affections from a stranger may be more sincere. So, I ask: Can humanity and strangeness be synonymous? Could we say, 'I am a stranger; therefore I am'? Can we truly feel alive without strange things, strange encounters, without strangers reminding us that our hearts and minds are still beating? They teach us to avoid strangers, yet life teaches us that human awareness can only be born of the dagger of strangeness… that life is tasteless without mingling with strangers… that familiarity is opposed to life! Thus, I loudly declare: A stranger I was born; a stranger I wish to remain! And I ask that you issue my death certificate the day I become familiar. October 29, 2022”

“[T]he word 'tolerance', which is commonly used as a positive word when it comes to 'tolerating' difference, is extremely problematic if we think about it. If you simply Google the linguistic meaning of the word, the first definition you will get is (tolerance: noun): 'to allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of (something that one does not necessarily like or agree with) without interference.' In this sense, using this word is disturbing because it suggests two things: first, the person who is doing the tolerating has the upper hand in everything, and therefore, they are kind enough to 'tolerate' others. Second, it gives those doing to 'tolerating' the right to change their mind and stop 'tolerating' others any time they please, which could perhaps lead them to commit violence against the 'intolerable'. I never understand how any native English speaker could thoughtlessly use 'tolerate' as a positive word in such situations. How could they use the same word to tell us that they 'tolerate a medication' and they 'tolerate an immigrant or another religion.' We need a culture that teaches us to appreciate, to love, and to affirm others not to 'tolerate' them.”

“Decolonizing knowledge shouldn’t put us in the position of only producing knowledge as a reaction to Western knowledge. Our existence should not become one in which everything we produce is to justify our intellectual existence vis-à-vis the West. It means to produce what we see as important, fit, and nurturing to our communities, countries, and cultures, in separation from the West and its colonial and imperial agenda. This way, we will ensure to not waste our energy in simply reacting to the West to justify the value of our contribution to knowledge.”

“Second…decolonizing is about reeducating ourselves in ways that allow us to reconnect with our own souls, minds, and bodies. To rebuild all that has been damaged by the colonial wounds and the disciplinary institutions we dealt with throughout our lives. It is indeed about reeducating ourselves in such ways that we realize our full potential to contribute to our communities and to the wider world. We must learn (or relearn) how to harvest the fruit of knowledge from every part of the world, not just the West.”

“One of the biggest and most invisible – which in the long run becomes visible— wounds of coloniality is to make those at the receiving end of it question themselves; their physical, mental, and spiritual value and meaning; their ability to think, invent, innovate, and theorize. It happens so slowly, viciously, and unconsciously that many people suddenly see themselves at a point where the only expertise and knowledge they deem valuable come to them from the heart of Europe and North America. The colonized, slowly but surely, become at once the dagger and the wound to themselves. We come to such a place where we cooperate with the dagger against our own wounds. It takes a long time and reflection to realize that the wound (the colonized mind) will never stop bleeding so long as it is cooperating with the dagger (coloniality).”

“Silent Messages – 2” She sat at the crowded bus terminal, rearranging the contents of her disorganized handbag. When she lifted her head for a moment, her eyes fell on a young couple kissing, touching, and hugging in a performative, exaggerated manner. As they noticed her, the young woman cast a mean, malicious look— as if to ask, ‘Are you jealous of all the love that surrounds me?’ She returned the glance with a sly one, as if replying, ‘Love that must parade itself in public is either immature, dead, or dying…”

“(Sorrow in the Heart of an Apple) I clean up my old sorrow Wrapped it in a clean and scented piece of cloth Buried it under an apple tree in our apple orchard in the village. Seasons passed… It seemed to me that everything was over When the harvest season came again. I forgot that I had wanted to forget about my sorrow I forgot where I had buried it, too. I picked an attractive red apple That looked glorious and delicious. From the first bite, I immediately recognized The taste of that same age-old sorrow. I realized then that my buried sorrow Had multiplied. And here I am Face to face with it again: Here I am finding it In the heart of every single apple!”

“I thought how artists, writers, and thinkers who are genuinely and strongly connected to their time, place, and peoples always sense disasters before they befall. They are not magicians with crystal balls. They simply use their other well-trained senses, beyond the five senses, to feel the upcoming earthquake, to sense the eruption of the upcoming volcanos, the approaching hurricanes. They signal what they sense in their works, while many people don’t take their warnings seriously.”

“In all the languages I speak, they say, ‘I fell in love.’ I always wondered why we have to fall if we are really loved. Why do we not stand in love? Why do we love someone to ‘death’ not to life? Perhaps the day we learn how to stand in language, we shall also be able to stand in love, to love our lovers to life, and to turn the language we speak from chains in our hands into wings to help us fly away from the prison we have built from it.”

“Another word we hear repeatedly is ‘tolerance’. Many people use this word positively in situations like ‘tolerating difference’… If you simply search the linguistic meaning of the word, the first definition you will get is (tolerance: noun): ‘to allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of something that one does not necessarily like or agree with without interference.’ In this sense, using this word is disturbing because it suggests two things: first, the person who is doing the tolerating has the upper hand in everything; that they ‘tolerate’ others out of the kindness of their hearts. Second, it gives those doing the ‘tolerating’ the right to change their mind and stop ‘tolerating’ others any time they please, which could make them commit violence against those they deem ‘intolerable’, since they have the upper hand on matters. In brief, this leaves no voice, power, or agency to the tolerated. I never understand how any native English speaker could thoughtlessly use ‘tolerate’ as a positive word in such situations. How could they use the same word to tell us that they tolerate a medication, an immigrant, or another religion? We need a culture that teaches us to appreciate, to love, and to affirm others not to tolerate them!”

“[W]e are the ones to blame for enabling and even nourishing the toxic workplaces. In continuing to cooperate with a profoundly unhealthy and exploitative employment system, we become at once the dagger and the wound. Wounds never heal so long as they continue to cooperate with daggers. In a sense, the cure is in the disease itself. Our silence is the disease. Our serious commitment for change and for exposing power abuses and bullies is the cure.”

“Some try to tell themselves that they tried to make changes from within the system the best they could. Unfortunately, however, anyone who has had the chance of working inside brutal, unjust, and systematically racist and oppressive institutions knows that trying to make changes from within is not only a myth, but more likely than not, the huge, sophisticated and unjust institutions will change you to conform to their agenda rather than the other way around. At best, if one tries to make changes or challenges brutal workplaces, one would either lose their job, or – if lucky enough – would simply remain static and never advance in their job or pay. In other words, they will remain poor and powerless, which, by definition, significantly limits any possibility for challenging, let alone, changing such institutions or corporations from within.”