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“Mustapha Mond paused, put down the first book and, picking up the other, turned over the pages. “Take this, for example,” he said, and in his deep voice once more began to read: “’A man grows old; he feels in himself that radical sense of weakness, of listlessness, of discomfort, which accompanies the advance of age; and, feeling thus, imagines himself merely sick, lulling his fears with the notion that this distressing condition is due to some particular cause, from which, as from an illness, he hopes to recover. Vain imaginings! That sickness is old age; and a horrible disease it is. They say that it is the fear of death and of what comes after death that makes men turn to religion as they advance in years. But my own experience has given me the conviction that, quite apart from any such terrors or imaginings, the religious sentiment tends to develop as we grow older; to develop because, as the passions grow calm, as the fancy and sensibilities are less excited and less excitable, our reason becomes less troubled in its working, less obscured by the images, desires and distractions, in which it used to be absorbed; whereupon God emerges as from behind a cloud; our soul feels, sees, turns towards the source of all light; turns naturally and inevitably; for now that all that gave to the world of sensations its life and charms has begun to leak away from us, now that phenomenal existence is no more bolstered up by impressions from within or from without, we feel the need to lean on something that abides, something that will never play us false-a reality, an absolute and everlasting truth. Yes, we inevitably turn to God; for this religious sentiment is of its nature so pure, so delightful to the soul that experiences it, that it makes up to us for all our other losses.”’ Mustapha Mond shut the book and leaned back in his chair. “One of the numerous things in heaven and earth that these philosophers didn’t dream about was this” (he waved his hand), “us, the modern world. ’You can only be independent of God while you’ve got youth and prosperity; independence won’t take you safely to the end.’ Well, we’ve now got youth and prosperity right up to the end. What follows? Evidently, that we can be independent of God. ’The religious sentiment will compensate us for all our losses.’ But there aren’t any losses for us to compensate; religious sentiment is superfluous. And why should we go hunting for a substitute for youthful desires, when youthful desires never fail? A substitute for distractions, when we go on enjoying all the old fooleries to the very last? What need have we of repose when our minds and bodies continue to delight in activity? of consolation, when we have soma? of something immovable, when there is the social order?”

“Mustardseed grinned at Bertie. "I was never any good at geometry, but you’re stuck in a love triangle, aren’t you?" "Shut up," she ordered even as Moth asked, "But what if there were four of them?" "That’s a love rectangle, and five people would be a love pentagon." "And what are six people in love?" Cobweb demanded. Mustardseed thought it over a moment. "Manslaughter, I suppose.”

“Musíme rozlišovat mezi obsahy myšlenkového procesu a logickými kategoriemi použitými myšlením. Zatímco se obsahy našeho bdělého myšlení nepodřizují omezením prostoru a času, mají kategorie logického myšlení prostorově-časovou povahu. Tak například mohu myslet na svého otce a zjistit, že jeho postoj v určité situaci je totožný s mým. Toto zjištění je logicky správné. Jesliže však tvrdím: "Já jsem svým otcem," pak je toto tvrzení "nelogické", protože neodpovídá pojmům fyzikálního světa. Z hlediska prožívání je však ta věta logická, neboť jí vyjadřuji své prožitky totožnosti se svým otcem. Logické myšlenky v bdělém stavu jsou podřízeny logickým kategorím, založeným na speciální formě existence, ve které přistupujeme k realitě v jednání. Ve spící existenci, která se vyznačuje nepřítomností dokonce i potenciálního jednání, se používají kategorie, které se vztahují k prožívání sebe sama. To platí i pro cítění. Jestliže se můj ci v bdělm stavu týká člověka, kterého jsem dvacet let neviděl, jsem si stále vědom faktu, že dotyčný není přítomen. Když o něm však sním, pak ho cítím tak, jako kdyby přítomen byl. Jestliže však říkám "jako kdyby přítomen byl", vyjadřuji tím svůj pocit v pojmech, které odpovídají "bdělému životu". Pro spící existenci neexistuje žádné "jako by"; příslušná osoba je přítomna.”

“Mutability is the badge of infirmity. It is seldom that a man continues to wish and design the same thing two days alike. Now he is for marrying; and now a mistress is preferred to a wife. Now he is ambitious and aspiring; presently the meanest servant is not more humble than he. This hour he squanders his money away; the next he turns miser. Sometimes he is frugal and serious; at other times profuse, airy, and gay.”

“MUTANT BLAZON My rapist’s eyes remind me of the sun. To look at them will mean that I go blind. His mouth beside my ear—they form a gun. Each breath: a bullet targeting my mind. My rapist’s eyes remind me of the sun. His throat: a fist to silence mine designed. His reason: a ventriloquist’s illusion. No tenor in the end could hearing find. My rapist’s eyes remind me of the sun— Too close for any vessel with a mind. Survive or get to die—that is the question. No longer have I any will to mind. My rapist’s eyes remind me of the sun— Not dead, not living, neither keen nor blind; A daily haunting; memory rebegun; Disaster in some future undivined. I write, rewrite, a “sonnet” about rape To hunt that voice I wish I could escape.”

“Mutfaktan tabak çanak sesleri gelmeye başlamıştı. Adımlar odalardan odalara geçiyor; ışık, sıkı sıkı kapanmış perdelerin arasından yaramazca sızıp duvarlarda oyunlar oynuyordu. Satıcıların, ‘Çıt çıt! Simiiiiiiitçiiiieeeee...’ veya ‘Muslukçuuiiiieee, tesisatçiiiieee...’ gibi sonu sesli harflerle zenginleşen bağırışları sokaktan yükseliyor, ‘Karpuuuuz kan, karpuuuuuz kan’, ‘Overlok makinesi ayağınıza geldi. Halı, kilim, yolluk, pas pas kenarına...’ nidalarıyla sloganlar çeşitleniyordu. Neyse ki hiçbiri gerçek değildi. Hilmi yatağında zorlanarak doğruldu. Birinin organları çürümeye başladığında hareket kabiliyeti de azalıyordu. Morarmış etleri nedeniyle odaya yayılan kokudan iğrendi; buradan hemen çıkmalıydı. İki Arada Bir Derede, 12”

“Mutlu insanlar bütün mutsuz insanlara her zaman büyük bir umuttur çünkü bir başarı yolu henüz böyle bir yol bulamamış olanlar tarafından her zaman kullanılabilir!”