Quotes from Orhan Pamuk

Ka plot të rinj që në një periudhë të caktuar të jetës së tyre, dashurohen nën ndikimin e ndonjë fjale, ndonjë historie, të ndonjë libri të lexuar së bashku; martohen me të dashurat e tyre me të njëjtin gëzim dhe jetojnë të lumtur, pa e kuptuar kurrë këtë iluzion të fshehur pas ethes të tyre dashurore.

At night, he could sense the weight of the concrete, the hardness, and the horrors of the city around him.

Yes, God must've wanted the art of illumination to be ecstasy so He could demonstrate how the world itself is ecstasy to those who truly see.

To avoid disappointment in art, one mustn't treat it as a career. Despite whatever great artistic sense and talent a man might possess, he ought to seek money and power elsewhere to avoid forsaking his art when he fails to receive proper compensation for his gifts and efforts.

It was not Orhan and ?evket locked in deadly combat but my own favorite hero or soccer player versus my brother's.

The Istanbul in which they lived was a city littered with the ruins of the great fall, but it was their city. If they gave themselves to melancholic poems about loss and destruction, they would, if discovered, find a voice all their own.

Read them, read and learn, because there's so much to do, you know.

If you know how to swim and manage to find your way up to the surface, you'll notice that for all it's melancholy, the Bosphorus is very beautiful, no less than life.

Te quería muerto de miedo por todo lo que sabía que pasaba por tu mente y más por lo que no sabía.

AÅŸk m? insan? budala yap?yor, yoksa yaln?zca budalalar m? â??k oluyor? Y?llard?r bohçac?l?k, çöpçatanl?k yap?yorum, bunun cevab?n? bilemiyorum. Birbirlerine tutuldukça daha zekileÅŸen, daha bir kurnaz olup ak?ll?ca dolaplar çeviren bir çifti, hele bir erkeÄŸi tan?mak isterdim

Roman sanat?n? siyasi yapan ÅŸey, yazarlar?n siyasi görüÅŸleri ya da üye olduklar? partiler deÄŸil; kültür, s?n?f, cinsiyet vs. olarak kendimize benzemeyen birisini anlamak, ahlaki, kültürel, siyasi yarg?dan önce ÅŸefkat duymak, yani bütün bu özdeÅŸleÅŸme ihtiyac? ve onun gücüdür.

Pictura înseamn? s? însufleÈ›eÈ™ti ceea ce vede mintea, spre s?rb?toarea ochiului. Ochiul se strecoar? în pictur? atât cât s? vad? în lume È™i s?-i slujeasc? minÈ›ii. Prin urmare, frumuseÈ›ea înseamn? redescoperirea de c?tre ochi, în lume, a ceea ce mintea cunoaÈ™te de la început.

Life can't be all that bad. Whatever happens, I can always take along the Bosphorus.

Roman sanat? kendimizden bir baÅŸkas? gibi ve baÅŸkalar?ndan kendimiz gibi söz açabilme hüneridir.

Mevlut used to toil on foot through mud and rain, up and down these very same streets, and now here they were slipping right through with ease. Life, too, slipped by in much the same way, speeding up as it ran along the tracks laid out by time and fortune.

Another time he told me about two mountains—one of cork, the other of marble—which had spent thousands of years staring at each other without any mutual comprehension, and he concluded this tale by telling me about the verse in the Holy Koran which says to build your homes on high ground.

There's a strangeness in my mind," said Mevlut. "No matter what I do, I feel completely alone in this world." "You will never feel that way again now that I'm with you," said Rayiha with maternal feeling. As Rayiha snuggled up to him, Mevlut watched her dreamlike reflection in the window of the teahouse, and he knew that he would never forget this moment.

cuando a uno se le contagiaba el mal de la ciencia, resultaba tan imposible escapar de él como de la peste...

Let me say one thing first: I'm a novelist. And it's a novelist's job to put your mind into all sorts of characters, which doesn't mean I agree with them.

expressing one's reality in words, as truthful as they might be, goads one to insincerity.

In those moments, he would realize that this city where he'd spent forty years of his life, where he'd passed through thousands and thousands of doors, getting to know the insides of people's homes, was no less an ephemeral thing than the life he'd lived there and the memories he'd made.

Pe când îmi spuneam asta, oblonul potopit de ghea?? s-a deschis brusc È™i, dup? doisprezece ani, am v?zut-o acolo, în cadrul ferestrei care lucea în lumina soarelui, pe minunata mea iubit?, cu chipul ei frumos pierdut între ramurile pline de z?pad?. Iubita mea cu ochii negri se uita, oare, la mine sau privea dincolo de mine, spre o alt? via???

I'd discovered how proud and fragile men could be, the sense of self that courses through their veins. I knew that fathers and sons were capable of killing each other. Whether it was father's killing their sons, or sons killing the fathers, men always emrged victorious , and all that was left for me to do was weep.

It could be true that there was another realm hidden within this one and that he might be able to walk and ponder his way into it if he allowed his secret other self to emerge. For the moment, he refused to choose between the two realms. His public views were correct, and so were his private ones; the intentions of the heart and the intentions of words were equally important…