Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

Diskutime tek 'Letërsia' filluar nga IAN, 6 Nov 2002.

  1. gurax

    gurax Administrator

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    "There is nothing so absurd about risking your life for your country," [Nately] declared.

    "Isn't there?" asked the old man. "What is a country? A country is a piece of land surrounded on all sides by boundaries, usually unnatural. Englishmen are dying for England. Americans are dying for America. Germans are dying for Germany. Russians are dying for Russia. There are now fifty or sixty countries fighting in this war. Sure so many countries can't all be worth dying for."

    "Anything worth living for," Nately said, "is worth dying for."

    "And anything worth dying for," answered the sacrilegious old man, "is certainly worth living for."
  2. ^Res-Cogitans^

    ^Res-Cogitans^ Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Pentimenti sul passato, noja del presente, e timor del futuro; ecco la vita. La sola morte, a cui è commesso il sacro cangiamento delle cose, promette pace.

    /pf/images/graemlins/rolleyes.gif

    "Ultime lettere di Jacopo Ortis" , Foscolo.
    (Kopja e shomtut e »Die Leiden des jungen Werther<< .)
  3. zog

    zog Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    per mendimin tim, nuk ka pjese interesante e bile as libra interesante, ka vetem AUTORE interesante.


    ps; aurora, me kete po te shpjegoj edhe ate thenien e niçes per "leximin", qe te mos te te duket edhe aq debil.
  4. ^Res-Cogitans^

    ^Res-Cogitans^ Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Pse te kufizosh emocjonet ?! Kur lindin , lindin dhe mjaft...
    /pf/images/graemlins/shrug.gif
    -"pjes interesante" do t'thot nje fragment qe na ka pelqyer sepse ndoshta nen nje pjes/fraz/pikpytje/pikçuditje shpreh gjith librin ose nje diçka qe ka terhequr <<mishin>> e lexuesit sepse aty gjen mendimin/emocjonet e tij te shprehur nen nje lidhje-germash (shum pak rendsi ka DORA ; nen nje far menyre ka...POR gjithmon nen lidhje me lexuesin , me egocentrizmin maniakal qe e perdor te si mjet zbulues/interesi [...] se vet'vetes.

    Me duket debil citimi jot...jo ai!

    Perseris : si mund te gjykosh "autoret"(nen lidhje me shpjegimin tend) nqs nuk i lexon?! - nqs terhiqesh nga te tjeret si i verbur , nga gjykimi i t'tjerve, ateher zotri te hap rrugen...ndiq te tjeret! Por Niq'ja ju ka hyr kok myt&zhyt nga rrenjet per te dal si NIETZSCHE . Ai mund ta thoj , ti jo /pf/images/graemlins/laugh.gif.
  5. ana karenina

    ana karenina Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    ...

    Be that as it may, I could not help thinking, as I looked at the works of Shakespeare on the shelf, that the bishop was right at least in this; it would have been impossible, completely and entirely, for any woman to have written the plays of Shakespeare in the age of Shakespeare. Let me imagine, since facts are so hard to come by, what would have happened had Shakespeare had a wonderfully gifted sister, called Judith, let us say. Shakespeare himself went, very probably,—his mother was an heiress—to the grammar school, where he may have learnt Latin—Ovid, Virgil and Horace—and the elements of grammar and logic. He was, it is well known, a wild boy who poached rabbits, perhaps shot a deer, and had, rather sooner than he should have done, to marry a woman in the neighbourhood, who bore him a child rather quicker than was right. That escapade sent him to seek his fortune in London. He had, it seemed, a taste for the theatre; he began by holding horses at the stage door. Very soon he got work in the theatre, became a successful actor, and lived at the hub of the universe, meeting everybody, knowing everybody, practising his art on the boards, exercising his wits in the streets, and even getting access to the palace of the queen. Meanwhile his extraordinarily gifted sister, let us suppose, remained at home. She was as adventurous, as imaginative, as agog to see the world as he was. But she was not sent to school. She had no chance of learning grammar and logic, let alone of reading Horace and Virgil. She picked up a book now and then, one of her brother’s perhaps, and read a few pages. But then her parents came in and told her to mend the stockings or mind the stew and not moon about with books and papers. They would have spoken sharply but kindly, for they were substantial people who knew the conditions of life for a woman and loved their daughter—indeed, more likely than not she was the apple of her father’s eye. Perhaps she scribbled some pages up in an apple loft on the sly but was careful to hide them or set fire to them. Soon, however, before she was out of her teens, she was to be betrothed to the son of a neighbouring woolstapler. She cried out that marriage was hateful to her, and for that she was severely beaten by her father. Then he ceased to scold her. He begged her instead not to hurt him, not to shame him in this matter of her marriage. He would give her a chain of beads or a fine petticoat, he said; and there were tears in his eyes. How could she disobey him? How could she break his heart? The force of her own gift alone drove her to it. She made up a small parcel of her belongings, let herself down by a rope one summer’s night and took the road to London. She was not seventeen. The birds that sang in the hedge were not more musical than she was. She had the quickest fancy, a gift like her brother’s, for the tune of words. Like him, she had a taste for the theatre. She stood at the stage door; she wanted to act, she said. Men laughed in her face. The manager—a fat, looselipped man—guffawed. He bellowed something about poodles dancing and women acting—no woman, he said, could possibly be an actress. He hinted—you can imagine what. She could get no training in her craft. Could she even seek her dinner in a tavern or roam the streets at midnight? Yet her genius was for fiction and lusted to feed abundantly upon the lives of men and women and the study of their ways. At last—for she was very young, oddly like Shakespeare the poet in her face, with the same grey eyes and rounded brows—at last Nick Greene the actormanager took pity on her; she found herself with child by that gentleman and so—who shall measure the heat and violence of the poet’s heart when caught and tangled in a woman’s body?—killed herself one winter’s night and lies buried at some cross–roads where the omnibuses now stop outside the Elephant and Castle.

    That, more or less, is how the story would run, I think, if a woman in Shakespeare’s day had had Shakespeare’s genius. But for my part, I agree with the deceased bishop, if such he was—it is unthinkable that any woman in Shakespeare’s day should have had Shakespeare’s genius. For genius like Shakespeare’s is not born among labouring, uneducated, servile people. It was not born in England among the Saxons and the Britons. It is not born to–day among the working classes.



    Virginia Woolf

    "A room of own's own", 1929
  6. ladouce2005

    ladouce2005 Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    "Ne fund te vizites time ne spital, ai me beri te mendoj. Me rikujtoi cfare kisha thene kur isha 16 vjec. Kur e beri kete, kuptova cdo te thote vertete shoqeri ne kuptimin e praktikimit te saj ne ditet tona. Shoqeria eshte e domosdoshme per njeriun ne funksion te memories se tij. Te kujtojme te shkuaren, duke e mbajtur gjithmone me vete, ndoshta kerkesat e nevojshme per mirembajtjen, si i thone, gjithesine e vetvetes. Per t'u siguruar qe vetja nuk zvogelohet, te shikosh si ruhet ne vellimin e saj, kujtimet duhen ujitur si lulet ne vazo, dhe ujitja kerkon kontakt te rregullt me deshmitarin e te shkuares, qe do te thote, me shoket. Ata jane pasqyra jone; kujtesa jone; s'u kerkojme asgje vec te pastrojne here pas here pasqyren e kujteses tone qe te mund te shihemi me mire ne te. Por as qe me behet vone se c'kam bere ne shkolle te mesme! C'kam dashur gjithmone, qe ne adoleshence te heret, ishte dicka krejt tjeter: shoqerine si dicka e vleresuar mbi gjithcka tjeter. Pelqeja te thoja: mes te vertetes dhe nje shoku, zgjedh gjithmone shokun. E thoja per te qene provokues, por e mendoja vertete. Sot e di qe te japesh maksimumin tend eshte e dale mode. Mund te kete qene i vlefshem per Akilin si shok i Patroklit, per Aleksander Duma-n tek Musketjeret, madje dhe per Sanco Pancon, i cili ishte shok i vertete per te zotin e tij, dhe pse me shume mosmarreveshje. Por per ne nuk eshte me e tille. Jam bere kaq pesimist, sa ne ditet tona kam arritur te zgjedh te verteten mbi shoqerine.”
    Gelltiti perseri konjakun: “Shoqeria, per mua, ishte prova e ekzistences se dickaje me te forte se ideologjia, se besimi, se kombi. Ne librin e Duma-se, kater shoket shpesh e gjeten veten ne pozita te kunderta dhe i'u desh te luftonin kunder njeri-tjetrit. Por kjo nuk u'a prish shoqerine. Ata vazhdojne t’a ndihmojne njeri-tjetrin, ne fshehtesi, me zgjuarsi, pa e vrare mendjen per te verteten e pales qe u takojne. E vene shoqerine mbi te verteten, mbi kauzen, mbi urdherat qe u japin superioret, mbi mbretin, mbi mretereshen, mbi gjithcka.”
    Chantal i perkedheli doren, dhe pas nje pushimi te vogel ai vazhdoi: “Duma e shkroi historine e Musketjereve dyqind vjet pas kohes se tyre. Ishte valle nostalgjik per humbjen e universit te shoqerise nderkohe? Apo zhdukja e shoqerise eshte nje fenomen me i vone?”
    “S’mund ti pergjigjem kesaj. Shoqeria nuk eshte problem per nje femer.”
    “Cfare do te thuash?”
    “Kete qe thashe. Shoqeria eshte problem per nje mashkull. Eshte romanticizmi i tyre. Jo yni.”
    Jean-Marc ra ne qetesi, gelltiti nje konjak tjeter e u kthye ne mendimin e meparshem: “Si lindi shoqeria? Sigurisht si nje aleance ndaj kundershtareve, nje aleance pa te cilen njerezit do ishin te pashprese balle armikut. Ndoshta nuk eshte me aq jetike nje aleance e tille.”
    “Gjithmone do te kete armiq.”
    “Po, por jane te padukshem dhe anonime tashme. Burrokracira, ligje. C’mund te beje nje shok per ty kur ata vendosin te ndertojne nje aeroport jashte dritares tende ose kur te pushojne nga puna? Nese dikush te ndihmon, perseri eshte dikush anonim, i padukshem, nje uniforme sherbimi-social, nje klient i organizates se ruajtjes se qenve, nje firme avokatesh. Shoqeria nuk mund te provohet me nga disa kerkime. Rasti nuk te le me ne kerkim te nje shoku te plagosur ne beteje ose te nxjerresh shpaten per t’a mbrojtur nga banditet. Ne jetojme ne kohen tone pa rreziqe aq te medha, por gjithashtu pa shoqeri.”
    “Nese kjo eshte e vertete, ndoshta ti duhet t’a kishe falur F.”
    “Une e di fare mire qe ai s’do e kish kuptuar merine time po t’ja kisha shfaqur. Kur te tjeret me sulmuan, ai heshti. Por duhet te tregohem i drejte, sepse ai e konsideroi heshtjen e tij te guximshme. Dikush madje me tregoi qe ai u mburr se nuk beri ze ndaj psikozes dominuse rreth meje dhe qe s’kish thene asgje per te me demtuar. Dmth qe ndergjegjia e tij ishte e qete, e ai mund te jete ndier i lenduar, kur pa shpjeguar, une ndala se takuari me te. Isha gabim kur shpresoja nga ai me teper se asnjanesia. Nese ai do ishte bere gati te me mbronte ne ate bote te hidhur e te pameshirshme, do kishte rrezikuar varferi, konflikte, probleme per veten e tij. Si mund t’a kerkoja kete nga ai? Vecanerisht duke e patur shok! Do kishte qene joshoqerore ne kulm nga ana ime! T’a themi ne nje menyre tjeter, do kishte qene e paedukate. Sepse shoqeria u boshatis nga permbajtja tradicionale e saj e ne ditet tona, u transformua ne kontrate te dyaneshme konsiderate, shkurt, ne kontrate etike. E pra, eshte e paedukate te kerkosh dicka ndaj shokut qe mund te jete jo e kendshme ose shqetesuese per te.”
    “Po vertete, keshtu jane gjerat. Nje arsye me teper qe ti duhet t’a thuash kete pa hidherim. Pa ironi.”
    “Po e them pa ironi. Keshtu jane gjerat.”
    “Nese urrejtja te ze, nese te akuzojne, te hedhin tek luanet, mund te presesh dy reagime nga njerezit qe njeh: disa prej tyre do bashkohen ne krim, te tjeret shume heshturazi do pretendojne sikur nuk dine asgje, nuk degjojne asgje, e keshtu ti fare mire mund te shkosh drejt e tek ata t'i takosh e t’u flasesh. Kategoria e dyte, e heshtur dhe me takt, jane shoket e tu. “Shoke” ne kuptimin modern te fjales. Degjo Jean-Marc, e kam ditur kete gjithmone.”

    "IDENTITETI" - MILAN KUNDERA
  7. ladouce2005

    ladouce2005 Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Immortality - M. Kundera

    On all hilltops
    There is peace,
    In all treetops
    You will hear
    Hardly a breath.
    Birds in the woods are silent.
    Just wait, soon
    You too will rest.
  8. ^Res-Cogitans^

    ^Res-Cogitans^ Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    << Tutto cio' che è vero e bello , è sempre pronto al perdono >> ,

    ka 1 jave rrjesht , qe s'me shq1tet nga mendja /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif .
  9. karamel

    karamel Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    - Que faite-vous? Devant moi! balbutia-t-elle en palissant le coeur etreint d'une douleur affreuse.
    Il se releva aussitot.
    - Ce n'est pas devant toi que je me suis prosterné mais devant toute la douleur humaine, fit-il d'un air etrange..

    - Ainsi tu pries beaucoup Dieu, Sonia? demanda-t-il
    Sonia se taisait.
    - Que serais-je devenue sans Dieu? murmura-t-elle d'une voix basse et rapide.
    - Mais que fait Dieu pour toi? demanda-t-il en continuant son interrogatoire.
    - Il fait tout, murmura-t-elle rapidement en baissant de nouveau les yeux.
    Un livre se trouvait sur la commode. Raskolnikov y jeta un coup d'oeil, le prit et l'examina. C'etait une traduction russe du Nouveau Testament.
    - Ou est le chapitre sur Lazare? demanda-t-il tout à coup
    - Les pages ou il est question de la resurrection de Lazare.. Trouve-moi ca, Sonia.
    - Dans le quatrieme Evangile, murmura-t-elle d'un air sombre.
    - Trouve moi ce passage et lis-le-moi, dit-il
    - Vous ne l'avez donc jamais lu? Sa voix devenait de plus en plus froide et dure.
    - Il y a longtemps...quand j'étais enfant. Lis.
    - Et vous ne l'avez pas entendu à l'eglise?
    - Je..Je n'y vais pas. Et toi?
    - N-non, balbutia Sonia
    - Lis, s'ecria-t-il tout à coup avec un accent irrité et pressant.
    Sonia ouvrit le livre, trouva la page. Ses mains tremblaient et sa voix s'etouffait dans sa gorge; << Un certain Lazare de Béthanie était donc malade...>>


    Eshte nje dialog qe zhvillohet midis nje prostitute e quajtur Sonia, dhe nje vrasesi, Raskolnikov i cili pasi perkulet para saj, i kerkon me force ti lexoi historine e ringjalljes te Lazaretit (vellai i Marise) nga Testamenti i Ri. Dialogu eshte banal, por konteksi dhe situata mjaft origjinale.

    nga ' Krim dhe Ndeshkim ' - Dostoïevski.
  10. virginia

    virginia Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Dostojevski eshte autori im biblik. nje nga me te medhenjete dhe nqs me pyesin ke te drejte te marresh vetem nje liber dhe do jesh i izolur diku do merrja dostojevskin (zgjidhje e veshtire persa i perket libreve te tij)
  11. ladouce2005

    ladouce2005 Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Homo Sentimentalis nuk mund te perkufizohet si nje njeri me ndjenja (sepse te gjithe kemi ndjenja), por si nje njeri qe i ka ngritur ndjenjat e tij ne nje kategori me shume vlere. Sapo ndjenja filloi te shihej si nje vlere, te gjithe donin te ndjenin, dhe sepse te gjithe duam t’a tregojme veten qe kemi vlera, kemi dhe tendencen te tregojme hapur qe kemi ndjenja.
    Transformimi i ndjenjave ne nje vlere ndodhi ne Europe rreth fillimit te shekullit te 12-te: trubadoret qe kendonin gjithe pasion per te dashurat e tyre, princeshat e paarritshme, dukeshin kaq te admirushme dhe te bukura ne veshet e te gjithe degjuesve, sa cdokush uronte te ndiqte shembullin e tyre per te rene pre e nje turbullimi te eger shpirteror.
    Askush nuk e zbuloi homo sentimentalis aq qarte sa Servantes. Don Kishoti vendos te dashuroje nje fare zonje te quajtur Dulqine, edhe pse ai se njeh pothuaj fare ate (kjo nuk eshte e habitshme, sepse e dime qe kur flitet per “dashuri te vertete”, e dashura pak rendesi ka). Ne kapitullin e 25te te librit te pare, ai niset me Sancon per ne malet e largeta, ku deshiron t'i tregoje atij pasionin e vet te pamase. Por si mund t'i tregosh dikujt tjeter qe shpirti yt eshte ne flake? Vecanerisht dikujt aq dru dhe naiv sa Sanco? Keshtu, kur arrijne ne mal, Don Kishoti zhvishet nga gjithcka pervec kemishes se tij dhe i shfaq sherbyesit madheshtin e pasionit duke bere kollotumba. Cdo here qe ai eshte kokeposhte, kemisha i bie mbi supe dhe Sancos i zene syte gjenitalet e tij. Pamja e seksit te vogel te kaloresit eshte kaq qesharake dhe e trishtuar, kaq zemerlenduse, sa Sanco, edhe pse me zemer te ngurte, nuk e duron dot, por i ngjitet Rozinantit dhe largohet...

    Immortality - M. Kundera
  12. pppppaa

    pppppaa Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Eshte e cuditshme sesi ky robi eshte kaq madheshtor ne gjenialitetin e vet..
    /pf/images/graemlins/thumbsup.gif /pf/images/graemlins/thumbsup.gif
  13. ladouce2005

    ladouce2005 Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif
  14. Mortal

    Mortal Guest

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    A Modest Proposal (Satire)

    For Preventing The Children of Poor People in Ireland
    From Being Aburden to Their Parents or Country, and
    For Making Them Beneficial to The Public
    By Jonathan Swift



    ..."I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled ...”

    ..."I have reckoned upon a medium that a child just born will weigh 12 pounds, and in a solar year, if tolerably nursed, increaseth to 28 pounds.

    I grant this food will be somewhat dear, and therefore very proper for landlords, who, as they have already devoured most of the parents, seem to have the best title to the children.

    Infant's flesh will be in season throughout the year, but more plentiful in March, and a little before and after; for we are told by a grave author, an eminent French physician, that fish being a prolific diet, there are more children born in Roman Catholic countries about nine months after Lent than at any other season; therefore, reckoning a year after Lent, the markets will be more glutted than usual, because the number of popish infants is at least three to one in this kingdom: and therefore it will have one other collateral advantage, by lessening the number of papists among us.

    I have already computed the charge of nursing a beggar's child (in which list I reckon all cottagers, laborers, and four-fifths of the farmers) to be about two shillings per annum, rags included; and I believe no gentleman would repine to give ten shillings for the carcass of a good fat child, which, as I have said, will make four dishes of excellent nutritive meat, when he hath only some particular friend or his own family to dine with him. Thus the squire will learn to be a good landlord, and grow popular among his tenants; the mother will have eight shillings net profit, and be fit for work till she produces another child.

    Those who are more thrifty (as I must confess the times require) may flay the carcass; the skin of which artificially dressed will make admirable gloves for ladies, and summer boots for fine gentlemen.

    As to our city of Dublin, shambles may be appointed for this purpose in the most convenient parts of it, and butchers we may be assured will not be wanting; although I rather recommend buying the children alive, and dressing them hot from the knife, as we do roasting pigs.

    A very worthy person, a true lover of his country, and whose virtues I highly esteem, was lately pleased in discoursing on this matter to offer a refinement upon my scheme. He said that many gentlemen of this kingdom, having of late destroyed their deer, he conceived that the want of venison might be well supplied by the bodies of young lads and maidens, not exceeding fourteen years of age nor under twelve; so great a number of both sexes in every country being now ready to starve for want of work and service; and these to be disposed of by their parents, if alive, or otherwise by their nearest relations. But with due deference to so excellent a friend and so deserving a patriot, I cannot be altogether in his sentiments; for as to the males, my American acquaintance assured me, from frequent experience, that their flesh was generally tough and lean, like that of our schoolboys by continual exercise, and their taste disagreeable; and to fatten them would not answer the charge. Then as to the females, it would, I think, with humble submission be a loss to the public, because they soon would become breeders themselves; and besides, it is not improbable that some scrupulous people might be apt to censure such a practice (although indeed very unjustly), as a little bordering upon cruelty; which, I confess, hath always been with me the strongest objection against any project, however so well intended..."
    ..."I profess, in the sincerity of my heart, that I have not the least personal interest in endeavoring to promote this necessary work, having no other motive than the public good of my country, by advancing our trade, providing for infants, relieving the poor, and giving some pleasure to the rich. I have no children by which I can propose to get a single penny; the youngest being nine years old, and my wife past child-bearing."


    Nje nga satirat me te 'fuqishme qe kam lexuar deri tani...
  15. ladouce2005

    ladouce2005 Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Kur ai dhe Brigitte i'u afruan shtratit, Paul pa trupin te mbuluar me nje carcaf nga koka tek kembet. Nje grua veshur me nje xhakete te bardhe u tha "ajo vdiq vetem 15 minuta me pare."
    Shkurtesia e kohes qe e ndau ate nga momenti i fundit kur ajo ishte ende e gjalle, ja shtoi edhe me hidherimin. Ai nuk e arriti dot vetem per 15 minuta. Per 15 minuta humbi permbushjen e jetes se tij, qe tani papritur u nderpre, e derrmuar dhe pa kuptim. Atij i dukej sikur tere keto vite qe jetuan bashke, ajo kurre nuk kish qene vertete e tij, ai kurre nuk e zoteroi teresisht; dhe kjo per plotesimin, per kulmin e historise se tyre te dashurise qe mungoi nje puthje te fundit; nje puthje te fundit per te kapur ate jete qe kish mbetur akoma ne buzet e saj.
    Gruaja me xhaketen e bardhe terhoqi carcafin menjane. Ai pa fytyren intime e te njohur, te zbehte, te bukur, dhe pse krejt te ndryshme: buzet e saj, dhe pse te buta si perhere, formonin nje linje qe ai kurre se pat njohur. Fytyra e saj kishte nje shprehje qe ai nuk e kuptonte dot. Ai ishte i pazoti te perkulej mbi te e t'a puthte.
    Krah tij, Brigitte filloi te qante, mbeshteti koken ne gjoksin e tij dhe u ngasherye ne lot.
    Ai e pa dhe nje here Agnes: ate buzeqeshje te cuditshme qe s'ja kish pare kurre ne fytyre, ate buzeqeshje te panjohur mbi nje fytyre me sy te mbyllur qe nuk i takonte atij, i takonte dikujt qe ai se njihte, e thoshte dicka qe ai se kuptonte.
    Gruaja me xhakete te bardhe e mbertheu Paul fort nga krahu; ai pothuajse humbi ndjenjat.

    M. Kundera - Immortality
  16. elviskelmendi

    elviskelmendi Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    ...Ajo u shtri ne shtratin e mbuluar nga carcafete e kuq te mendafshit dhe qe zinte pjesen afer dritares se hapur nga ku flladi i fresket i mbremjes verore i mixuar me aromen karakteristike te detit, tundete lehte perdet e gjata te bardha....
    /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif
  17. ^Res-Cogitans^

    ^Res-Cogitans^ Fillestar

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    La carità è paziente, è benigna la carità; non è invidiosa la carità, non si vanta, non si gonfia, non manca di rispetto, non cerca il suo interesse, non si adira, non tiene conto del male ricevuto, non gode dell'ingiustizia, ma si compiace della verità. Tutto copre, tutto crede, tutto spera, tutto sopporta.

    Libri,i librave.
  18. gurax

    gurax Administrator

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    "I meant to tell you -- I've read your paper on linguistic devolution from Indo-European... [W]hile I enjoyed your ideas about grammatical reinforcement in pre-literate trading clans, I'm afraid I can't bring myself to accept your general theory."

    Sara didn't find it surprising. Her conclusions ran counter to everything the man believed in.
    "That's the way of science--a cycle of give-and-take. No dogmatic truth. No rigid, received word."
    "As opposed to my own slavish devotion to a few ancient scrolls that no human had a hand in writing?" The flinty man laughed... "But never mind all that. I really want to discuss your fascinating paper. Do you mind?" ... "You admit that proto-Indo-European, and many other human mother tongues, were more rigorous and rational than the dialects that evolved out of them. Right so far?"
    "According to books carried here by the Tabernacle. All we have is inherited data."
    "And yet you don't see this trend as an obvious sign of decay from perfection? From original grammars designed for our use by a patron race?"

    She signed. There must be weirder things in the universe than holding an abstract chat with her kidnapper under a desert sky, but none came to mind.
    "The structure of those early tongues could have risen out of selective pressure, operating over generations. Primitive people need rigid grammars, because they lack writing or other means to correct error and linguistic drift."
    "Ah yes. Your analogy to the game of Telephone, in which the language with the highest level of shaman coding--"
    "That's Shannon coding. Claude Shannon showed that any message can carry within itself the means to correct errors that creep in during transit. In a spoken language, this redundancy often comes embedded in grammatical rules--the cases, declensions, modifiers, and such. It's all quite basic information theory."
    "Hm. Maybe to you. I confess that I failed to follow your mathematics." Dedinger chuckled dryly. "But let's assume you're right about that. Does not such clever, self-correcting structure prove those early human languages were shrewdly designed?"
    "Not at all. The same argument was raised against biological evolution--and later against the notion of self-bootstrapped intelligence. Some folks have a hard time accepting that complexity can emerge out of Darwinian selection, but it does."
    "So you believe--"
    "That the same thing happened to preliterate languages on Earth. Cultures with stronger grammars could hang together over greater distances and times. According to some of the old-timer linguists, Indo-European may have ranged all the way from Europe to Central Asia. Its rigid perfection maintained culture and trade links over distances far beyond what any person might traverse in a lifetime. News, gossip, or a good story could travel slowly, by word of mouth, all the way across a continent, arriving centuries later, barely changed."
    "Like in the game of Telephone."
    "That's the general idea."

    ...Dedinger had his teeth in the argument.
    "If all you say is true, how can you deny those early grammars were superior to the shabby, disorganized dialects that followed?"
    "What do you mean, 'superior'? Whether you're talking about proto-Indo-European, proto-Bantu or proto-Semitic, each language served the needs of a conservative, largely changeless culture of nomads and herders, for hundreds of thousands of years. But those needs shifted when our ancestors acquired agriculture, metals and writing. Progress changed the very notion of what language was for."
    An expression of earnest confusion briefly softened the man's etched features.
    "Pray, what could language be for, if not to maintain an culture's cohesion and foster communication?"
    "There is another desirable thing," Sara replied. "Another product of language, just as important, in the long run, as cohesion."
    "And that is?"
    "Creativity. If I'm right, it calls for a different kind of grammar. A completely different way of looking at error."
    "One that welcomes error, embraces it." Dedinger nodded. "This part of your paper I had trouble following. You say Anglic is better because it lacks redundancy coding. Because errors and ambiguity creep into every phrase or paragraph. But how can chaos engender inventiveness?"
    "By shattering preconceptions. By allowing illogical, preposterous, even obviously wrong statements to parse in reasonable-sounding expressions. Like the paradox--'This sentence is a lie'--which can't be spoken grammatically in any formal Galactic tongue. By putting manifest contradictions on an equal footing with the most time-honored and widely held assumptions, we are tantalized, confused. Our thoughts stumble out of step."
    "This is good?"
    "It's how creativity works, especially in humans. For every good idea, ten thousand idiotic ones must first be posed, sifted, tried out, and discarded. A mind that's afraid to toy with the ridiculous will never come up with the brilliantly original--some absurd concept that future generations will assume to have been 'obvious' all along.
    "One result has been a profusion of new words--a vocabulary vastly greater than ancient languages. Words for new things, new ideas, new ways of comparing and reasoning."
    Dedinger muttered, "And new disasters. New misunderstandings."

    Sara nodded, conceding the point.
    "It's a dangerous process. Earth's bloody past shows how imagination and belief turn into curses unless they're accompanied by critical judgment. Writing, logic, and experimentation help replace some of the error-correction that used to come embedded in grammar. Above all, mature people must consider that most unpleasant of all possibilities--that their own favorite doctrines might prove wrong."
    She watched Dedinger. Would the man catch on that she had aimed the barb at him?
    The exiled pedagogue gave Sara a wry smile.
    "Has it occurred to you, Miss Sara, that your last statement could apply to you and your own beloved hypothesis?"
    Now it was Sara's turn to wince, then laugh aloud.
    "Human nature. Each of us thinks we know what we're talking about and those disagreeing are fools. Creative people see Prometheus in a mirror, never Pandora."
    Dedinger spoke with an ironic edge. "Sometimes the torch I carry scorches my fingers."


    Brightness Reef - By David Brin
  19. eniad

    eniad Anëtar aktiv

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    <font color="black">Very interesting, indeed. Got some complying opinions (at their utmost).

    Thnx /pf/images/graemlins/smile.gif </font>
  20. alinos

    alinos Administrator

    Re: Pjese interesante nga librat qe keni lexuar

    Zonja Klara u ndermend: "Kam kaq pak kujtime prej femijerise sime, sikur ne mes te qendronin nje mije jete. Po tani qe me cingriset ne mendime, me vjen ndermend nje episod. Nje nate erdhet tek ne, papritur: prinderit tuaj kishin dale per te shkuar ne teater, a tek dicka e ketij lloji. Ne shtepine tone ishin ndezur tere dritat. Babai im priste nje mysafir, nje gjiri te larget pasunar, nese e mbaj mend mire. Duhet te vinte prej, prej ... nuk e di me prej nga, gjithsesi prej larg. Kishim dy ore qe e prisnim. Dyert ishin te hapura, llampat te ndezura, nena shkonte nje me dy e shtronte cohen e kanapese, babai qendronte ngjate dritares. Askush nuk kuturiste te ulej se mos levizte qofte edhe nje karrige. Meqenese erdhet tamam atehere, ndenjet edhe ju te prisnit bashke me mua. Ne femijet mbanim veshin te nderur nga dera. Sa me shume behej vone, aq me te mrekullueshem e imagjinonim mysafirin e pritur. Dridheshim deri edhe prej idese se mos vinte perpara se te mberrinim ate grade te eperme te mrekullise, qe i qaseshim gjithnje edhe me, pergjate mungeses se tij. Nuk druheshim se mos nuk shfaqej; ishim te sigurte: ai mberrin, por ne deshirojme t'i leme kohen e duhur per t'u bere i madh dhe i fuqishem.'

    Papritur doktori ngriti kryet dhe tha me trishtim: "Nje gje e dime mire qe te dy, nuk erdhi... As une nuk e kisha harruar". "Jo," siguroi Klara, "nuk erdhi". Dhe pas pauzes: "Po ishte vertet bukur!" "Cfare?" "Epo, ja keshtu ... pritja, tere ato drita ... qetesia ... ajo ndjesi prej ditefeste".

    ...

    "Dhe pikerisht atje e keni gjetur?"
    Klara kundroi doktorin me syte e medhenj te lumturuar: "Ndjenja qe Ai [Zoti] kishte ekzistuar, nje here ne ndonje cast ... e perse duhet te ndjeja me teper? Aq dilte e tepronte".

    ...

    Papandehur, pa u kthyer, doktor Lasman pyeti: "Po tani?". Meqenese nuk pati asnje pergjigje u vertit ngadale drejt saj:

    "Tani..."tha Klara medyshur, kur doktori iu qas serisht perpara dhe ngriti drejt syte e celur krejtesisht "tani mendoj hera-heres: Ai gjithsesi duhet e ekzistoje".

    Doktori i mori doren dhe ia mbajti nje grime. Shikonte nomatisshem.
    "Per cfare mendoni Georg?"

    "Mendoj se serisht eshte si ajo nate: serisht ju prisni mysafirin e mrekullueshem, Zotin dhe e dini se do te mberrije ... dhe rastis qe vij edhe une ..."

    nga "Dhe erresira degjon" Rainer Maria Rilke

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