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Quote by John Fowles

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The Magus

In this novel, a young man embarks on a transformative journey that challenges his understanding of the world and his own identity. The narrative delves into the complexities of human existence, philosophy, and the pursuit of knowledge. more

Author

John Fowles
John Fowles

John Fowles was an English novelist known for his unique narrative techniques and profound psychological insights. His works often explore themes of human nature, morality, and existentialism, with 'The French Lieutenant's Woman' and 'The Magus' being his most famous works. more

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“প্রতি পূর্ণিমার মধ্যরাতে একবার আকাশের দিকে তাকাই গৃহত্যাগী হবার মত জোছনা কি উঠেছে ? বালিকা ভুলানো জোছনা নয়। যে জোছনায় বালিকারা ছাদের রেলিং ধরে ছুটাছুটি করতে করতে বলবে ― ও মাগো, কি সুন্দর চাঁদ । নব দম্পত্তির জোছনাও নয় । যে জোছনা দেখে স্বামী গাঢ় স্বরে স্ত্রীকে বলবেন ― দেখো দেখো নীতু, চাঁদটা তোমার মুখের মতই সুন্দর । কাজলা দিদির স্যাঁতস্যাতে জোছনা নয় । যে জোছনা বাসি স্মৃতিপূর্ণ ডাষ্টবিন উল্টে দেয় আকাশে । কবির জোছনা নয় । যে জোছনা দেখে কবিরা বলবেন ― কি আশ্চর্য রূপার থালার মত চাঁদ । আমি সিদ্ধার্থের মত গৃহত্যাগী জোছনার জন্য বসে আছি । যে জোছনা দেখা মাত্র গৃহের সমস্ত দরজা খুলে যাবে ― ঘরের ভেতর ঢুকে পড়বে বিস্তৃত প্রান্তর । প্রান্তরে হাঁটব, হাঁটব আর হাঁটব ― পূর্ণিমার চাঁদ স্থির হয়ে থাকবে মধ্য আকাশে । চারদিক থেকে বিবিধ কন্ঠ ডাকবে ― আয় আয় আয় ।”

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“Camba had bent her long neck down to Ingar's level and was muttering in his ear. "Do you feel the breeze on your face?" I heard her say. "That's yours, and worth feeling. Look at those orange clouds. All the trials of a day may be endured if you know there's such a sky at the end of it. Some days I told my heart to wait, just wait, because the sunset would teach me again that my pain was nothing compared with the eternal, circling sky.”

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Book:Shadow Scale
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“I wiped my hands on my apron and went to the window. Outside, the prairie reached out and touched the places where the sky came down. Though the winter was nearly over, there were patches of snow and ice everywhere. I looked at the long dirt road that crawled across the plains, remembering the morning that Mama had died, cruel and sunny. They had come for her in a wagon and taken her away to be buried. And then the cousins and aunts and uncles had come and tried to fill up the house. But they couldn’t.”

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“With all this snow, with the sun not there, with the cold and dreariness, this place doesn't look like my America, doesn't even look real. It's like we are in a terrible story, like we're in the crazy parts of the Bible, there where God is busy punishing people for their sins and is making them miserable with all the weather. The sky, for example, has stayed white all this time I have been here, which tells you that something is not right. Even the stones know that a sky is supposed to be blue, like our sky back home, which is blue, so blue you can spray Clorox on it and wipe it with a paper towel and it wouldn't even come off.”

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Book:We Need New Names
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