Saturday, 4 July 2009
child in time quote
"he and his wife had lain awake all night speechless with fear for the boys, horrified by their own helpessness to keep them from harm"
love by Jonathan Townsend http://www.lovepoemsandquotes.com/LovePoem36.html
So often when I am embracing you,It seems that you exist in this worldonly because of me and I exist because of you.It's not easy to wander in this world and not lose one's way,but the greatest happiness of allis in giving joy to one's beloved.And if the king can have his throne,and if the bird can have his Spring nest,and God can have his heaven,then I, my sweetheart, I can have you!- Jonathan Townsend -
quote on love http://www.wedding-references.com/literature_quotes_about_love.htm
Kaleel Jamison
Relationships--of all kinds--are like sand held in your hand. That it’s very soft and fragile and can be lost very easily. Held loosely, with an open hand, the sand remains where it is. This could connote that love should be about relaxing and not to over passionate. The minute you close your hand and squeeze tightly to hold on, the sand trickles through your fingers. You may hold onto some of it, but most will be spilled. The word spilled becomes more aggressive I feel. A relationship is like that. Held loosely, with respect and freedom for the other person, it is likely to remain intact. But hold too tightly, too possessively, and the relationship slips away and is lost. Just like how the sea comes and washes away the sand and that piece of sand is lost forever just like love you hold it to tight then it will fall apart.
Relationships--of all kinds--are like sand held in your hand. That it’s very soft and fragile and can be lost very easily. Held loosely, with an open hand, the sand remains where it is. This could connote that love should be about relaxing and not to over passionate. The minute you close your hand and squeeze tightly to hold on, the sand trickles through your fingers. You may hold onto some of it, but most will be spilled. The word spilled becomes more aggressive I feel. A relationship is like that. Held loosely, with respect and freedom for the other person, it is likely to remain intact. But hold too tightly, too possessively, and the relationship slips away and is lost. Just like how the sea comes and washes away the sand and that piece of sand is lost forever just like love you hold it to tight then it will fall apart.
Saturday, 27 June 2009
LOVE ENGLISH LIT
Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.- Captain Corelli's Mandolin. "Love is the beauty of the soul." --St. Augustine
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two.- Captain Corelli's Mandolin. "Love is the beauty of the soul." --St. Augustine
some notes on the light wraps you HW
The soul- The light wraps you in its mortal flame. – this human love, that he wants to protect her.
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
against the old propellers of the twighlight - after the sun set becoming darker
that revolves around you. – the time goes on so she is getting older so the propellers symbolises her life how it’s forever changing as she is getting older.
Speechless, my friend, - that he is speechless that she has gone alone that she will fight on her own.
alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead – no one around she is on her own.
and filled with the lives of fire, - fire can cause pain and suffering but then it can rebuild things, so maybe she has had suffering in her life and now thinks are getting better.
pure heir of the ruined day.
A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment.
The great roots of night – that something has been left a stain of him on her she can not get it off, religion maybe Adam & Eve with the fruit.
grow suddenly from your soul,
and the things that hide in you come out again – giving birth
so that a blue and palled people
your newly born, takes nourishment. – the baby will take its place in your life it will leave you with some joy, you can hide your pain.
Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave
of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold:
rise, lead and possess a creation
so rich in life that its flowers - beautiful, joyful,eligant
perish and it is full of sadness. –
that black and gold are two very designative colours, you could say that at the beginning of the poem it’s the colour back where she is lonely and has no one, towards the end of the poem it’s the colour gold where she gives birth, she has a baby joy in her life. Or you could say its her feelings that she is happy at the end when she is alone with her baby.
“that its flowers perish and it is full of sadness” – that its flowers that leave your mark when you are dead, when you die people will leave flowers on your grave so suggesting that the flowers perish to sadness when someone dies.
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
against the old propellers of the twighlight - after the sun set becoming darker
that revolves around you. – the time goes on so she is getting older so the propellers symbolises her life how it’s forever changing as she is getting older.
Speechless, my friend, - that he is speechless that she has gone alone that she will fight on her own.
alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead – no one around she is on her own.
and filled with the lives of fire, - fire can cause pain and suffering but then it can rebuild things, so maybe she has had suffering in her life and now thinks are getting better.
pure heir of the ruined day.
A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment.
The great roots of night – that something has been left a stain of him on her she can not get it off, religion maybe Adam & Eve with the fruit.
grow suddenly from your soul,
and the things that hide in you come out again – giving birth
so that a blue and palled people
your newly born, takes nourishment. – the baby will take its place in your life it will leave you with some joy, you can hide your pain.
Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave
of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold:
rise, lead and possess a creation
so rich in life that its flowers - beautiful, joyful,eligant
perish and it is full of sadness. –
that black and gold are two very designative colours, you could say that at the beginning of the poem it’s the colour back where she is lonely and has no one, towards the end of the poem it’s the colour gold where she gives birth, she has a baby joy in her life. Or you could say its her feelings that she is happy at the end when she is alone with her baby.
“that its flowers perish and it is full of sadness” – that its flowers that leave your mark when you are dead, when you die people will leave flowers on your grave so suggesting that the flowers perish to sadness when someone dies.
From – Twenty Poems of Love
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
Write for example: ‘The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance’
The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like these I held her in my arms.
I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.
Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.
What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.
That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me
The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.
Another’s kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.
Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her.
Write for example: ‘The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance’
The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like these I held her in my arms.
I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.
Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.
What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.
That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me
The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.
Another’s kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.
Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her.
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Q&A Book summary
"It was an inspired idea by Vikas Swarup to write Q & A...A broad and sympathetic humanity underpins the whole book."
-- The Sunday Telegraph, London
"Vikas Swarup weaves a delightful yarn. With an easy style, Q & A is sweet, sorrowful and funny. An enchanting tale."
-- The Sunday Tribune, India
"This page-turning novel reels from farce to melodrama to fairy tale."
-- You Magazine, London
"A very clever story told very cleverly and at a relentless pace."
-- The Sydney Morning Herald, Australia
"Swarup is an accomplished storyteller, and Q & A has all the immediacy and impact of an oral account."
-- Daily Mail, London
"[A] rare, seemingly effortless brew of humour, drama, romance and social realism...Swarup...has achieved a triumph with this thrilling, endearing work which gets into the heart and soul of modern India."
-- The New Zealand Herald
"Q & A is that rare novel that chugs along on the parallel tracks of being a rollicking read as well as being a polished, varnished, finished work of impressive craftsmanship."
-- Hindustan Times, India
-- The Sunday Telegraph, London
"Vikas Swarup weaves a delightful yarn. With an easy style, Q & A is sweet, sorrowful and funny. An enchanting tale."
-- The Sunday Tribune, India
"This page-turning novel reels from farce to melodrama to fairy tale."
-- You Magazine, London
"A very clever story told very cleverly and at a relentless pace."
-- The Sydney Morning Herald, Australia
"Swarup is an accomplished storyteller, and Q & A has all the immediacy and impact of an oral account."
-- Daily Mail, London
"[A] rare, seemingly effortless brew of humour, drama, romance and social realism...Swarup...has achieved a triumph with this thrilling, endearing work which gets into the heart and soul of modern India."
-- The New Zealand Herald
"Q & A is that rare novel that chugs along on the parallel tracks of being a rollicking read as well as being a polished, varnished, finished work of impressive craftsmanship."
-- Hindustan Times, India
Monday, 22 June 2009
Q&A
This book takes you to the heart of the slum life of Mohamed Thomas.
Mohammad Thomas, an orphaned, uneducated young waiter. Prior to the start of the novel, Ram has correctly answered 12 questions on the fictional game show Who Will Win a Billion? and has won a billion rupees. However, show host Kumar and the producers, who do not have the money to pay him, have had him arrested for cheating by the police; they had cast Ram because they figured an uneducated street lad would not be able to answer more than a few questions at most, and they find the police more than willing to believe them.
Mohammad Thomas, an orphaned, uneducated young waiter. Prior to the start of the novel, Ram has correctly answered 12 questions on the fictional game show Who Will Win a Billion? and has won a billion rupees. However, show host Kumar and the producers, who do not have the money to pay him, have had him arrested for cheating by the police; they had cast Ram because they figured an uneducated street lad would not be able to answer more than a few questions at most, and they find the police more than willing to believe them.
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