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A Quotes

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All A Quotes

“As so often happened in the village, Beryl had noticed that there were undercurrents and unspoken histories flowing between people. It was something she had never experienced herself, and whenever it occurred, it left her feeling a little hollow inside, as if there was a part of life that she had missed out on by being so eager to ramble from place to place.”

“As so often, a political event involving Donald Trump looks like swinging wildly between melodrama and farce. The Republican National Convention in Cleveland has begun with accusations of plagiarism after Mr Trump's wife Melania gave a speech dotted with sentences that appeared to have been lifted from a speech that Michelle Obama gave in 2008.”

“As societies grow decadent, the language grows decadent, too. Words are used to disguise, not to illuminate, action: you liberate a city by destroying it. Words are to confuse, so that at election time people will solemnly vote against their own interests.”

“As society is only possible if everyone, while living his own life, at the same time helps others to live; if every individual is simultaneously means and end; if each individual's well-being is simultaneously the condition necessary to the well-being of others, it is evident that the contrast between I and thou, means and end, automatically is overcome.”

“As soldiers, you will always have to cherish and live up to the three ideals of faithfulness, duty and sacrifice. Soldiers who always remain faithful to their nation, who are always prepared to sacrifice their lives, are invincible. If you, too, want to be invincible, engrave these three ideals in the innermost core of your hearts.”

“As sombras continuarão a visitar-me mas o meu amor as distrairá. Cozinharei para elas a euforia com fígado e cebola, água do rio, granizo e mel. Afundarei o crepúsculo nos pratos, enquanto sussurro o segredo da loba, e deixarei que todas se sentem em redor da mesa. Elas soltar-me-ão o cabelo e tocarão, ao de leve, o meu pescoço. E da minha boca cairão flores sobre a toalha. Vejam o meu amor aí derramado como é infinito e grande e húmido, uma debandada de cavalos selvagens. Assim é o meu amor, sintam-no tão largo como é, ofensivo, bruto. Comam-no, digladiem-se, desçam. E, no fim, deixem-me em paz para eu poder adormecer docemente depois de voltar a pentear os meus afectos.”

“AS SOMBRAS DA ALMA. THE SHADOWS OF THE SOUL. The stories others tell about you and the stories you tell about yourself: which come closer to the truth? Is it so clear that they are your own? Is one an authority on oneself? But that isn't the question that concerns me. The real question is: In such stories, is there really a difference between true and false? In stories about the outside, surely. But when we set out to understand someone on the inside? Is that a trip that ever comes to an end? Is the soul a place of facts? Or are the alleged facts only the deceptive shadows of our stories?”