um blouko de livres feito em livres directos e à baliza desde o tourel ao batel que espera por dom Manuel 2º ou 3º tanto faz
dimecres, 20 de juliol de 2016
And we danced, on the brink of an unknown future, to an echo from a vanished past Your work is to survive. Neither his kind, nor his kind of thinking will survive long. They are the crown of creation, they are ambition fulfilled—they have nowhere more to go. But life is change, that is how it differs from the rocks, change is its very nature. Who, then, were the recent lords of creation, that they should expect to remain unchanged?” ― John Wyndham, The Chrysalids I don't think it had ever occurred to me that man's supremacy is not primarily due to his brain, as most of the books would have one think. It is due to the brain's capacity to make use of the information conveyed to it by a narrow band of visible light rays. His civilization, all that he had achieved or might achieve, hung upon his ability to perceive that range of vibrations from red to violet. Without that, he was lost.” ― John Wyndham, The Day of the Triffids When a day that you happen to know is Wednesday starts off by sounding like Sunday, there is something seriously wrong somewhere PIOR QUE DEPENDER DE ALGUÉM É NÃO TER NINGUÉM DE QUEM DEPENDER A word again ... When the minds have learnt to mingle, when no thought is wholly one's own, and each has taken too much of the other ever to be entirely himself alone; when one has reached the beginning of seeing with a single eye, loving with a single heart, enjoying with a single joy; when there can be moments of identity and nothing is separate save bodies that long for one another ... When there is that, where is the word? There is only the inadequacy of the word that exists.