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Quote by Asif Hossain

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Veronica

This book delves into the complexities of human identity and the enigmatic nature of secrets, weaving a narrative that intertwines personal and historical elements. more

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Asif Hossain

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“...Την τελευταία φορά που πήγα στην αγορά, μόλις πέρασαν δέκα λεπτά που ήμουν στην ουρά για ψάρι, έκανα μεταβολή κι έφυγα. Γιατί μου ήταν αδύνατον να αντέξω άλλες συζητήσεις για οικογενειακά τραπέζια. Εγώ ήθελα να αγοράσω ένα φιλέτο μπακαλιάρο, ένα μικρό, ατομικό και γελοίο κομμάτι μπακαλιάρο και χρειάστηκε να φάω στη μάπα οικογένειες ολόκληρες, κοκαλάκια που έπρεπε να αφαιρεθούν για τα μικρά αγγελούδια, ζευγάρια μεσ' τη γλύκα και φαινομενικά δίχως εντάσεις και ηλιόλουστα Σαββατοκύριακα, όπου πρωταγωνιστής ήταν το πρώτο πρόσωπο πληθυντικού. Το "εμείς" καταναλώνει ψάρι, το "εμείς" συγκεντρώνει κόσμο γύρω από ένα τραπέζι, το "εμείς" ενισχύει τους δεσμούς και φτιάχνει ομάδες...”

“Perhaps the loneliness of modern life is inevitable because as we grow intellectually we also require more time to ourselves in order to explore the great vastness of our new technological and mental potential. Servitor companions provide happiness, increased pleasure, company, advice, and a type of support that can help us to confront the vastness of our potential as individual human beings in this new technological age.”

“весь наш світ — то фейсбук їбучий нас в реалі нема ні грама так і здохнемо ми в фейсбуці й закопають нас в інстаграмі ми — зашквар цифрового коду ми — туман алгоритмів сраних наші душі — це два смартфони дві зарядки і два екрани”

“Elishva found no comfort in abstract speculation. She treated her patron saint as one of her relatives, a member of a family that had been torn apart and dispersed. He was the only person she had left, apart from Nabu, the cat, and the specter of her son, Daniel, who was bound to return one day. To others she lived alone, but she believed she lived with three beings, or three ghosts, with so much power and presence that she didn't feel lonely.”

“How heavy do I journey on the way, When what I seek, my weary travel’s end, Doth teach that ease and that repose to say, “Thus far the miles are measur’d from thy friend!” The beast that bears me, tired with my woe, Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me, As if by some instinct the wretch did know His rider lov’d not speed, being made from thee: The bloody spur cannot provoke him on That sometimes anger thrusts into his hide; Which heavily he answers with a groan, More sharp to me than spurring to his side; For that same groan doth put this in my mind; My grief lies onward, and my joy behind —William Shakespeare[”