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Quote by Noorilhuda

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Catharsis

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Noorilhuda

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“That's what it is. That's what my morning was like: all these real physical heavy positive vibrations, the soul of this tape. The fuzzy groove. The meaning of it all, if it has one: All love, all the time. Peace and happiness in every day. Peace and happiness with cow blood dripping from your hands, bright blood staining your fingerprints because you didn't glove up since you don't normally do prep work. Peace and happiness when you're making a list of everything that's wrong with the world and squinting your eyes tight trying to imagine your way out of it. Peace, peace, peace, happiness, happiness, happiness.”

“Pjesnik čiji nas stihovi ushićuju možda je bio tužan usamljenik a glazbenik neki sjetan sanjar, ali i tada njegovo djelo dijeli vedrinu bogova i zvijezda. Ono što nam umjetnik daje, to više nije njegov mrak, njegova patnja ili tjeskoba, to je kaplja čišste svjetlosti, vječite vedrine. Kad i cijeli narodi i jezici pokušavaju doprijeti do dubine svijeta, u mitovima, kozmologiji i raznim religijama, ono posljednje i najviše što mogu dostići, to je ta vedrina. Sjećas li se starih Indijaca, naš je stari waldzellski učitelj jednom o njima pričao: svijt patnje, razmišljanja, pokore, askeze; ali posljednja velika otkrića njegova duha bila su svijetla i vedra, vedar je smješak onih koji su preboljeli svijet i smješak Buddhe, vedri su likovi njegove dubokoumne mitologije.”

“You think the things you can touch and feel are the things that are real, but they are not. Over time, they all get old and decline. The people, the houses, the rocks and the mountains: one day they will all crumble. This is because they are not as real as the things that last forever. It is another one of the lessons we come to teach.”

“Gaiman provides some additional insights via these comments in his script for chapter 5: “What I want to do here, without destroying the story as an adventure yarn, is grab the subtext and make it text, grab the metaphor and make it text; allow that we’re spinning a metafiction and see how far we can push that fact before it collapses in on itself. Which is going to be hard; good fantasy is as delicate as butterfly wings, and just as liable to crumble if improperly handled, leaving you with something that can no longer fly.”