Quotes About Tragedy

So wie es keine Tragödie gibt außer unter Fürsten und unter Götter, so gibt es keine Architektur außer für Götter und für Fürsten. Die moderne Architektur ist ein bürgerliches Melodrama.

Il n'est point de serpent, ni de monstre odieux, Qui, par l'art imité, ne puisse plaire aux yeux ; D'un pinceau délicat l'artifice agréable Du plus affreux objet fait un objet aimable. Ainsi, pour nous charmer, la Tragédie en pleurs D'Œdipe tout sanglant fit parler les douleurs, D'Oreste parricide exprima les alarmes, Et, pour nous divertir, nous arracha des larmes.

Sometimes darkness rode him like a harpy, but still. Funny. My Lord, he was funny. Even when his life was ricocheting from city to wife to book to tragedy—of which there were more than a few—he remained one of the funniest men I ever knew.

Day after day I prayed. More and more I remembered the days of her living, and less and less I dwelled on the tragedy of her dying. Gradually peace came to me, and with it a measure of acceptance.

Ten thousand pounds is the legal value of a negligently taken life, of a child or a parent. A cold and somewhat mean-spirited calculation: you would do better if you slipped on a paving-stone and broke a front tooth.

We lost one chef in an unfortunate flambé accident.

My mother wanted us to understand that the tragedies of your life one day have the potential to be comic stories the next.

My mother wanted us to understand that the tragedies of your life one day have to potential to be the comic stories the next.

The tragedy of life is in what dies inside a man while he lives -- the death of genuine feeling, the death of inspired response, the awareness that makes it possible to feel the pain or the glory of other men in yourself.

The real tragedy of life is not death but what we let die inside of us while we live.

Death is not the ultimate tragedy of life. The ultimate tragedy is depersonalization--dying in an alien and sterile area, separated from the spiritual nourishment that comes from being able to reach out to a loving hand, separated from the desire to experience the things that make life worth living, separated from hope.

The tragedy of life is not death it is what we let die inside of us while we live.

the sacrifice of the village of Altavilla, shelled out of existence because it might have contained Germans.

War is a profane thing.

Bütün tutkular bir trajedi gibi son bulur. Tek yanl? her ?ey, ölümle biter -i?te duygu felsefesi- i?te hayal gücü felsefesi, i?te dü?ünce felsefesi. Bütün hayat, ya?l?l?k ve ölümle son bulur. Her ?iirde trajik bir yan vard?r. Hakikî ?akan?n temelinde ciddiyet yatar. Fars?n, kukla oyununun, en renkli hayat?n, âdînin, trajik etkisi.

Bütün tutkular bir trajedi gibi son bulur. Tek yanl? her ?ey, ölümle biter -i?te duygu felsefesi- i?te hayal gücü felsefesi, i?te dü?ünce felsefesi. Bütün hayat, ya?l?l?k ve ölümle son bulur. Her ?iirde trajik bir yan vard?r. Hakikî ?akan?n temelinde ciddiyet yatar. Fars?n, kukla oyununun, en renkli hayat?n, âdînin, arabeskin trajik etkisi.

Bütün tutkular bir trajedi gibi son bulur. Tek yanl? her ?ey, ölümle biter -i?te duygu felsefesi- i?te hayal gücü felsefesi, i?te dü?ünce felsefesi. Bütün hayat, ya?l?l?k ve ölümle son bulur. Her ?iirde trajik bir yan vard?r. Hakikî ?akan?n temelinde ciddiyet yatar. Fars?n, kukla oyunun, en renkli hayat?n, âdînin, trajik etkisi.

The retreating slow crack of Blaisedell's bootheels had been a sound as lonely, and as fatal.

In my life I have been a fool with liquor and a wise man with horses. I was born on a horse, or just off one anyway, for my mother died in a fall a month before she was due to be light of me, and they cut me from her there. Which was the last time I was throwed, except by whiskey.

murder is born of love and love attains the greatest intensity in murder

Why did they kill it? Man can't stand to let something beautiful and pure, a thing on wings, pass over him. He hates everything that soars, and everything that sings. It seemed to me this swan is the very image of my dream, and my dream is dead.

We must achieve neither mere history, nor mere fiction, but myth. A true myth is one which, within the universe of a certain culture (living or dead), expresses richly, and often perhaps tragically, the highest admirations possible within that culture.

Yet obscurely I saw that the ultimate cosmos was nevertheless lovely, and perfectly formed; and that every frustration and agony within it, however cruel to the sufferer, issued finally, without any miscarriage, in the enhanced lucidity of the cosmical spirit itself. In this sense at least no individual tragedy was in vain.

Jasenovac concentration camp, which had been the largest "place of extermination" in fascist Croatia during the Second World War. "No one know exact number, but some say a million murdered there. They killing Jews and Gypsies, but most was Serbs.