Close your eyes and listen. Listen to the silent screams of terrified mothers, the prayers of anguished old men and women. Listen to the tears of children. Jewish children, a beautiful little girl among them, with golden hair, whose vulnerable tenderness has never left me. Look and listen as they walk towards dark flames so gigantic that the planet itself seemed in danger.
Elie WieselRelated topics
beautiful children close danger dark girl golden hair women men left listen silent walk tears eyesRelated quotes
This business of burning human beings with napalm, of filling our nation's homes with orphans and widows, of injecting poisonous drugs of hate into veins of peoples normally humane, of sending men home from dark and bloody battlefields physically handicapped and psychologically deranged, cannot be reconciled with wisdom, justice and love.
Martin Luther King Jr.
Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide,
Voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time.
The night is my companion, and solitude my guide.
Would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?And I would be the one
To hold you down,
Kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away.
And after, I'd wipe away the tears,
Just close your eyes dear.
Sarah McLachlan
The highway's jammed with broken heroes
On a last chance power drive.
Everybody's out on the run tonight
But there's no place left to hide.
Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness.
I'll love you with all the madness in my soul.
Someday girl, I don't know when we're gonna get to that place
Where we really want to go and we'll walk in the sun.
But till then tramps like us, baby we were born to run.
Bruce Springsteen
Ever since, the Paris wherein I have tried to retrace her steps has remained as silent and deserted as it was on the day. I walk through empty streets. For me, they are always empty, even at dusk, during the rush hour, when the crowds are hurrying towards the mouth of metro. I think of her in spite of myself, sensing an echo of her presence in this neighbourhood or that. The other evening, it was near the Gare du Nord.
Patrick Modiano
So down to Main Street and to Fifth Street, to the long dark bars, to the King Edward Cellar, and there a girl with yellow hair and sickness in her smile. Her name was Jean, she was thin and tubercular, but she was hard too, so anxious to get my money, her languid mouth for my lips, her long fingers at my trousers, her sickly lovely eyes watching every dollar bill.
John Fante
