Quotes About Tragedy

As Hegel said, tragedy was not the conflict between right and wrong but right and right, a dilemma none of us who wanted to participate in history could escape. The major had the right to live, but I was right

if history had never happened, neither as farce nor as tragedy, if the serpent of language had not bitten me, if I had never been born, if my mother was never cleft, if you needed no more revisions, and if I saw no more of these visions, please, could you please just let me sleep?

The father of one of the dead children cried, My God, why are You doing this to us? And it struck us all then, the answer to humanity's eternal question of Why? It was, and is, simply this: Why not?

As Hegel said, tragedy was not the conflict between right and wrong but right and right, a dilemma none of us who wanted to participate in history could escape.

What if he's not a spy? We'll be killing the wrong man. Then it would be murder. Bon sipped his beer. First, he said, the General knows stuff we don't. Second, we're not killing. This is an assassination. Your guys did this all the time. Third, this is war. Innocent people get killed. It's only murder if you know they're innocent. Even so, that's a tragedy, not a crime.

You can't blame her,' said Amit. 'After a life so full of tragedy anyone would become hard.' 'What tragedy?' asked Mrs. Chatterji. 'Well, when she was four,' said Amit, 'her mother slapped her--it was quite traumatic--and then things went on in that vein. When she was twelve she came in second in an exam...It hardens you.

The tragedy is not that the fool talks but that we listen.

couldn't get to them in time. It was just too hot. Your mother . . . I warned her about smoking in bed. I told her what would happen." "Did Mom start the fire? Did she burn my brothers?" "She didn't mean to start it, Reece," he cries. "But now she's killed them all.

DIALÉTICA É claro que a vida é boa E a alegria, a única indizível emoção É claro que te acho linda Em ti bendigo o amor das coisas simples É claro que te amo E tenho tudo para ser feliz Mas acontece que sou triste...

Still," I said, "I am sorry. But I was desperate to rescue my sister." "I understand," the sagging dragon assured me. He explained, "I, too, had a sister, once." The past tense didn't escape me. "What happened to her?" I asked, feeling we were connected, two of a kind after all, sharing similar personal tragedies. "I had to eat her," the dragon said, "to keep her from stealing my gold.

Felicity was more romantic. She's waiting for her lover. He's a sailor and she's watching for his ship to come in. Nobody's dared tell her it's been wrecked and her lover is at the bottom of the sea. She'll go on waiting and waiting until her red hair turns as white as his bones- Good.

I saw houses burned by the Mujahadeen, as well as disfigured bodies of prisoners they'd taken. But I saw other things too: villages destroyed by our shelling and bodies of women, killed by mistake. When you shoot at every rustling in the bushes, there's no time to think about who's there. But for an Afghan, it didn't matter if his wife had been killed intentionally or accidentally. He went into the mountains to see revenge.

On one of his comrades depicted in the book:] "Sasha was my friend … Like me, he was 19. But he didn't come home. He was killed 12 hours after this photo was taken.

History is no more than the portrayal of crimes and misfortunes.

History is only the register of crimes and misfortunes.

Indeed, history is nothing more than a tableau of crimes and misfortunes.

How can I tell her to be glad she's alive, when she knows she'll never walk on the desert again, or find me a diamond for some patron's earring, never gentle another horse, never make love?" "I don't know," Smoke said. "But if you and Alex see her life as a tragedy, that's what it will be.

She] had a habit of putting things in that way, as though she had accidently set your house on fire and had no choice now but to stand back and watch it burn.

The tragedy of sexual intercourse is the perpetual virginity of the soul.

Then there is the man who drowned crossing a stream with an average depth of six inches.

The tragedy of love is indifference.

The Irishman sustains himself during brief periods of joy by the knowledge that tragedy is just around the corner.

To me the supreme aim (of "arranging" one's ideas and writing poetry) is an act of faith and reason to make one rejoice in the midst of tragedy.

Drama is based on the Mistake.