Quotes from Orhan Pamuk

Me parecía que aquel momento de observación se alargaba sin cesar y comprendí que ahora el hecho de ver se había transformado en un cierto recordar. Entonces se me vino a la cabeza lo que sentía antiguamente cuando contemplaba una hermosa ilustración durante horas: si la miras lo suficiente, tu mente entra en el tiempo de la pintura.

Taking our inspiration from an article on the proper way to walk in a city that appeared recently in the celebrated Parisian magazine Matin, we too should make our feelings clear to people who have yet to learn how to conduct themselves on the streets of Istanbul and tell them, "Don't walk down the street with your mouth open" [1924]. It

Losing myself inside my reflections came to be the ''disappearing game'' and perhaps I played it to prepare myself for the thing I dreaded most... I knew or sure that, one day, my mother would disappear too.

So this is how Mevlut came to understand the truth that a part of him had known all along: walking around the city at night made him feel as if he were wandering around inside his own head.

It is no more possible to take pride in these neglected dwellings, in which dirt, dust and mud have blended into their surroundings, than it is to rejoice in the beautiful old wooden houses that as a child I watched burn down one by one.

el escribano al ver la gravedad de su contenido, (un telegrama urgente de Estambul) lo había dejado de inmediato sobre la mesa del gobernador. Sami Pacha no pudo evitar fijarse en que el telegrama procedía directamente del Maybein. De pronto el corazón empezó a latirle desbocado. Probablemente serían malas noticias. ¡Tal vez lo mejor sería no leerlo! Pero la curiosidad pudo con el y segundos más tarde estaba sentado delante del mensaje descifrado

Mientras escribía sus cartas, el cuervo escudriñaba con la cabeza prácticamente inmóvil, contemplando con asombro maravillado la punta de la pluma, la tinta que se derramaba letra a letra sobre el papel y que iba dejando palabras y frases a su paso. Parecía como si el negro cuervo estuviera enamorado de Pakize .

Pristojnost ?ovjeku samo oduzima vrijeme, ni?emu drugom ne koristi.

The art of the novel is based on the craft of telling our own stories as if they belonged to others, and of telling other people's stories as if they were our own.

Those who can truly see, know.

The sight of snow made her think how beautiful and short life is and how, in spite of all their enmities, people have so very much in common; measured against eternity and the greatness of creation, the world in which they lived was narrow. That's why snow drew people together. It was as if snow cast a veil over hatreds, greed, and wrath and made everyone feel close to one another.

These sights spoke of a strange and powerful loneliness. It was as if he were in a place that the whole world had forgotten, as if it were snowing at the end of the world.

Åžairi önce asacaks?n, sonra daraÄŸac?n?n alt?nda aÄŸlayacaks?n.

But as we all know, the place we return to is never the same place we left.

pag. 131 Tell me then, does love make one a fool or do only fools fall in love?

The reason we turn to literary novels, great novels, where we search for guidance and wisdom that might confer meaning on life, is that we fail to feel at home in the world.

Ne kadar hünerin ve yeteneÄŸin olursa olsun paray? ve iktidar? baÅŸka yerlerde ara ki, hüner ve emeÄŸinin kar??l???n? alamay?nca sanata küsmeyesin.

Before my birth there was infinite time, and after my death, inexhaustible time. I never thought of it before: I'd been living luminously between two eternities of darkness.

it was one of those revolutionary gestures that you laugh about years later, when you're remembering the good old days when you were political.

Ne tuhaf aÅŸk denen ÅŸey! Åžimdiyi hiç yaÅŸam?yorum sanki! Bir yandan b?k?p usanmadan gelecekte ne olaca??n? düÅŸünüyor, öte yandan da bütün hareketlerini ve sözlerini anlamland?rabilmek için olup bitenleri yeniden defalarca düÅŸünerek geçmiÅŸte ya??yorum.

Tahta oturaca?? bir ÅŸehzadeye yirmi dokuz ya??na kadar budala ve mutlu bir çocuk hayat? sürdürtebilen bir imparatorluk, tabii ki y?k?lmaya da??lmaya, yok olmaya mahkumdur.

I was reminded of a horrifying aphorism my father had taught me, expressing the ambivalence of officials toward gifted artists and writers who criticize their regimes: "Poets must first be hanged, then mourned at the gallows.

As famílias em que nascemos, os países e as cidades a que a loteria da vida nos destina - devemos supostamente amá-los, e no fim das contas de fato os amamos do fundo do coração, mas será que não merecíamos melhor sorte?

Bütün hayat?m Ä°stanbul'un yak?l?p, y?k?l?p, tahrip edilip deÄŸiÅŸtirilmesinin hikayesidir. Bu, insan?n kendi hat?ralar?n?n, kendi hat?rlad?klar?n?n, baÄŸl? olduÄŸu sokaklar?n, çevrelerin, neredeyse haf?zas?na, ezberine ald??? görüntülerin yok edilmesi hikâyesidir ve benim için çok draml?, ac?l? ve a??r bir hikâyedir.