Seek for the sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
here shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That Doom is near at hand,
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand.
"Pomiluj njezno svoje knjige, strance, i sjeti se da su prah."
Miljenko Jergovic, Sarajevski Marlboro
"Vidim kako se svijet sve vise pretvara u pustinju, cujem stalno priblizavanje grmljavine koja ce i nas unistiti, mogu osjetiti patnje milijuna, a ipak, ako pogledam u nebo, mislim da ce se sve pravedno rijesiti, da ce ova okrutnost zavrsiti, da ce se opet vratiti mir i spokoj. U medjuvremenu, moram zadrzati svoje ideale, jer mozda ce doci vrijeme kad cu ih moci ostvariti!"
Dnevnik Anne Frank
"Stat rosa pristina nomine, nomina nuda tenemus."
("Negdasnja ruza ostaje kao ime, zadrzavamo tek gola imena.")
Umberto Eco, "Ime ruze"
" Pravo na netrpeljivost je apsurdno i divljačko: to je pravo tigrova i doista je užasno, jer tigrovi se razdiru samo zbog jela, a mi smo se međusobno tamanili zbog paragrafâ."
Voltaire, "Rasprava o toleranciji"
"-Znam da je mrtav! Mislis da ne znam? Ali ga svejedno mogu voljeti, zar ne mogu? To sto je netko mrtav jos ne znaci da ga covjek treba prestati voljeti, zaboga... osobito ako je taj netko bio tisucu puta bolji od ljudi za koje covjek zna da su zivi, i sve."
J.D.Salinger, "Lovac u zitu"
THE VALLEY OF UNREST
Far away - far away-
Far away - as far at least
Lies that valley as the day
Down within the golden east-
All things lovely - are not they
Far away - far away?
It is called the Valley Nis.
And a Syriac tale there is
Thereabout which Time hath said
Shall not be interpreted.
Something about Satan's dart-
Something about angel wings-
Much about a broken hart-
All about unhappy things:
But ' the Valley Nis ' at best
Means 'the valley of unrest'.
Once it smil'd, a silent dell
Where the people did not dwell,
Having gone onto the wars-
And the sly, misteriuos stars,
With a visage full of meaning,
O'er the unguarded flowers were leaning:
Or the sun ray dripp'd all red
Thro' the tulips overhead,
Then grew paler as it fell
On the quiet Asphodel.
Now the unhappy shall confess
Nothing there is motionless:
Helen, like thy human eye
There th' uneasy violets lie-
There the reed grass doth wave
Over the old forgotten grave-
One by one from the treetop
There the eternal dews do drop-
There the vague and dreamy trees
Do roll like seas in northern breeze
Edgar Allan Poe