I do not believe in a personal connection to God; that's where it gets transcendental. Orhan Pamuk More Quotes by Orhan Pamuk More Quotes From Orhan Pamuk As much as I live I shall not imitate them or hate myself for being different to them Orhan Pamuk being-different imitation hate Whatever anybody says, the most important thing in life is to be happy. Orhan Pamuk cute-life inspirational-life love Real museums are places where Time is transformed into Space. Orhan Pamuk space real museums Sometimes I would see them not as mementos of the blissful hours but as the tangible precious debris of the storm raging in my soul. Orhan Pamuk storm tangible soul What was the difference between love and the agony of waiting? Like love, the agony of waiting began in the muscles and somewhere around the upper belly but soon spread out to the chest, the thighs, and the forehead, to invade the entire body with numbing force. Orhan Pamuk like-love agony differences When two people love each other as we do, no one can come between them, no one," I said, amazed at the words I was uttering without preparation. "Lovers like us, because they know that nothing can destroy their love, even on the worst days, even when they are heedlessly hurting each other in the cruelest , most deceitful ways, still carry in their hearts a consolation that never abandons them." (p.191) Orhan Pamuk hurt heart two The knowledge that she could learn to love a man had always meant more to her than loving him effortlessly, more even than falling in love, and that was why she now felt that she was on the threshold of a new life, a happiness bound to endure for a very long time. Orhan Pamuk falling-in-love men long I realized that the longing for art, like the longing for love, is a malady that blinds us, and makes us forget the things we already know, obscuring reality. Orhan Pamuk love-is reality art The entire world was like a palace with countless rooms whose doors opened into one another. We were able to pass from one room to the next only by exercising our memories and imaginations, but most of us, in our laziness, rarely exercised these capacities, and forever remained in the same room. Orhan Pamuk exercise doors memories I think a lot about the poems I wasn't able to write...I masturbrated...Solitude is essentially a matter of pride; you bury yourself in your own scent. The issue is the same for all real poets. If you've been happy for too long, you become banal. By the same token, if you've been unhappy for a long time, you lose your poetic power...Happiness and poverty can only coexist for the briefest time. Afterword either happiness coarsens the poet or the poem is so true it destroys his happiness. Orhan Pamuk pride real writing I don't want to be a tree; I want to be its meaning. Orhan Pamuk want tree philosophy In the mornings I used to say goodbye to my wife like someone going to work. I'd leave the house, walk around a few blocks, and come back like a person arriving at the office. Orhan Pamuk block morning goodbye Books, which we mistake for consolation, only add depth to our sorrow. Orhan Pamuk sorrow mistake book There's a lot of pride involved in my refusal to believe in god. Orhan Pamuk pride atheist believe Football can teach us that although a team's individual players may be weak, it can still be successful if it uses common sense. Or that we should not attack anyone physically when we suffer a depressing defeat. Orhan Pamuk depressing team football The real question is how much suffering we've caused our womenfolk by turning headscarves into symbols - and using women as pawns in a political game. Orhan Pamuk political real games The snow reminded me of the beauty and mystery of creation, of the essential joy that is life. Orhan Pamuk essentials joy snow Snow reminds Ka of God! But I’m not sure it would be accurate. What brings me close to God is the silence of snow. Orhan Pamuk silence would-be snow Ka knew very well that life was a meaningless string of random incidents Orhan Pamuk strings incidents wells Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight. Orhan Pamuk painting silence sight
