I’m going to post 2 times today. My second post will be the last story about the doors (I remember I promised three stories. One was about Romeo/Juliet, second – about Rat/Spider) and the third will be about usual family 🙂
Yesterday I’ve ‘met’ an amazing writer – Olive Schreiner. I never heard about her before and I never read her books lol …and I’m a teacher of literature. Ouch! Haha
She is an South-African author. She was born in the big family (was the 9th of 12 children). Her parents were missioners in the East Cape. Lived in Africa, England and Europe. Died – 1920.
I’ve ordered her book, simply because her life and her ideas, thoughts, writing and images she’ve created touched me some way…
Here’s the best I could find today. Enjoy!
- Perhaps the old monks were right when they tried to root love out, perhaps the poets are right when they try to water it. It is a blood-red flower, with the color of sin, but there is always the scent of a god about it.
- Wisdom never kicks at the iron walls it can’t bring down.
- Love, smoke and a cough cannot long be hid!
- Experience teaches us in a millennium what passion teaches us in an hour.
- No woman has the right to marry a man if she has to bend herself out of shape for him.
- If the bird does like its cage, and does like its sugar and will not leave it, why keep the door so very carefully shut? Why not open it, only a little?
- When the day comes, that you sit down broken, without one human creature to whom you can cling, with your loves the dead and the living-dead; when the very thirst for knowledge through long-continued thwarting has grown dull; when in the present theres not craving, when in the future no hope, then, with a beneficent tenderness, Nature enfolds you…
- The bees are very attentive to the flowers until their honey is done, and then they fly over them. I don’t know if the flowers feel grateful to the bees, they are great fools if they do.
- There was never a great man who had not a great mother.
- All things on earth have their price, and for truth we pay the dearest. We barter it for love and sympathy. The road to honour is paved with thorns; but on the path to truth, at every step you set your foot down on your heart.
- Why am I so alone, so hard, so cold? I am so weary of myself! What is eating my soul to its core? Self, self, self! I cannot bear this life! I cannot breathe, I cannot live! Will nothing free me from MYSELF?
- God said, ‘When one man and one woman shine together, it makes the most perfect light’.
- “Her name is Truth. He who has once seen her never rests again. Till death he desires her.” And the hunter cried: “Oh, tell me where I may find her.” But the old man said: “You have not suffered enough,” and went.
- I would like to say to the men and women of the generations which will come after us: you will look back at us with astonishment. You will wonder at passionate struggles that accomplished so little, at the, to you, obvious paths to attain our ends which we did not take. At the intolerable evils before which it will seem to you we sat down passive. At the great truths staring us in the face which we failed to see, at the great truths we grasped at but could not get our fingers quite ’round. You will marvel at the labour that ended in so little. But what you will never know that it was how we were thinking of you and for you that we struggled as we did and accomplished the little that we have done. That it was in the thought of your larger realization and fuller life that we have found consolation for the futilities of our own.
And at the end: if you’ve seen any butterfly this spring – tell me the color… there’s an old Arabic legend or belief about the color of the butterfly you’ll see first when the spring arrives. The color usually describes how happy will be the year.. The lighter the color – the better :))