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Quote by Ahmad Ardalan

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Baghdad: The Final Gathering

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Ahmad Ardalan

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“Do not watch yourself too closely. Do not draw over-rapid conclusions from what is happening to you. Simply let it happen. Otherwise you will too readily find yourself looking on your past, which is of course not uninvolved with everything that is going on in you now, reproachfully (that is, moralistically). The extraordinary circumstances of a solitary and helpless childhood are so difficult, so complicated, exposed to so many influences and at the same time removed from any real life context, that if a vice enters into it we must not be too quick to call it a vice. We should in general be very careful with names; it is so often the name of a crime which destroys a life, not the nameless and personal act itself, which was perhaps completely necessary to that life and could have been absorbed by it without difficulty.”

PastSadnessDepressionDifficultiesSinsSelf Absorption
Book:Letters to a Young Poet
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“I always wanted to be a sad white girl. I wanted to be sad like Lana Del Rey. I wanted a sadness so universal, it'd move everyone to tears. A sadness everyone could related to. "I want a summertime, summertime sadness". My sadness is about domestic violence, homelessness, gender dysphoria, intergenerational trauma passed down from Salvdorean Civil War, etc, etc. My sadness is something to observe, consume, sympathize, but NOT EMPATHAZE WITH (not to mobilize for). Most people do not know how to interact with my sadness. My sadness is so multifaceted, it speaks twenty languages.”

SadnessDepressionGender
Book:Sad Girl Poems
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“ഓരോ കടലമണി കരണ്ടു തിന്നുമ്പോഴും ഉപേക്ഷിക്കപ്പെട്ടു കഴിയുന്ന അച്ഛനമ്മമാരുടെ മനസ്സിലെ എല്ലാ വേദനകളും കരളുക. ഈ കടലമണികളോടൊപ്പം അവയും ഇല്ലാതാവട്ടെ.”

SadnessMalayalam
Book:ഏഴാം നിലയിലെ ആകാശം | Ezham Nilayile Akasham
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“I love the buildings. They're called skyscrapers. They're the closest thing to an ocean here. But it's an ocean that goes straight up, not flat out. They say that the body of water stretching away to the east of Manhattan is the ocean but it isn't. Not my ocean, anyway. It's weird because back home I just took it for granted, my grey-green sea. Now I have a granite ocean. It gives me the same happy-sad feeling I need sometimes. When I look straight up at the buildings I can feel alone in a good way. Not in that horrible way of no one knows me.”

HomeHappinessSadnessOceanNew York CityCityManhattanBuildingsSkyscrapers
Book:Fall On Your Knees
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“I lead a double life. I'm John Wayne Gacy. I present myself in potentially awkward social situations as a laughing, colorful clown to gain your regard. If you ask my friends and neighbors, they will tell you I'm "normal" and that I "keep to myself." Meanwhile, there's a crawlspace in the basement where I've buried my secrets. It's starting to get pretty crowded down there, but they are mine. And there they'll stay.”

SadnessLonelinessIllnessSecretsAwkwardness
Book:Bent: How Yoga Saved My Ass
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“I realized that it was not Ko-san, now safely ditched for ever, but Ko-san's mother who stood in need of pity and consideration. She must still live on in this hard unpitying world, but he, once he had jumped [in battle], had jumped beyond such things. The case could well have been different, had he never jumped; but he did jump; and that, as they say, is that. Whether this world's weather turns out fine or cloudy no more worries him; but it matters to his mother. It rains, so she sits alone indoors thinking about Ko-san. And now it's fine, so she potters out and meets a friend of Ko-san's. She hangs out the national flag to welcome the returned soliders, but her joy is made querulous with wishing that Ko-san were alive. At the public bath-house, some young girl of marriageable age helps her to carry a bucket of hot water: but her pleasure from that kindness is soured as she thinks if only I had a daughter-in-law like this girl. To live under such conditions is to live in agonies. Had she lost one out of many children, there would be consolation and comfort in the mere fact of the survivors. But when loss halves a family of just one parent and one child, the damage is as irreparable as when a gourd is broken clean across its middle. There's nothing left to hang on to. Like the sergeant's mother, she too had waited for her son's return, counting on shriveled fingers the passing of the days and nights before that special day when she would be able once more to hang on him. But Ko-san with the flag jumped resolutely down into the ditch and still has not climbed back.”

WarGriefSadnessMotherhoodGrief And LossJapanese LiteratureSurvivorsVeteransGrief SupportWar Victims
Book:Ten Nights of Dream, Hearing Things, The Heredity of Taste
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“Sonnet I am no stranger in the house of pain; I am familiar with its every part, From the low stile, then up the crooked lane To the dark doorway, intimate to my heart. Here did I sit with grief and eat his bread, Here was I welcomed as misfortune’s guest, And there’s no room but where I’ve laid my head On misery’s accomodating breast. So, sorrow, does my knocking rouse you up? Open the door, old mother; it is I. Bring grief’s good goblet out, the sad, sweet cup; Fill it with wine of silence, strong and dry. For I’ve a story to amuse your ears, Of youth and hope, of middle age and tears.”

PainPoetryHopeGriefSadnessYouthSorrowAgeing
Author:Robert Nathan
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