Fjords Quotes

• I was walking along a path with two friends - the sun was setting - suddenly the sky turned blood red - I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence - there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city - my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety - and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.

  Edvard Munch

  Fire, Blue, Blood

  Edvard Munch's Diary, January 22, 1892.

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• Si uno anhela ver el rostro de lo Divino, debe salir del acuario, escapar de la piscifactoría, ir a nadar por cataratas salvajes, bucear en fiordos profundos. Hay que explorar el laberinto del arrecife, las sombras de los nenúfares. Qué limitante, qué insultante pensar que Dios es un guardián benévolo, un director de criadero ausente que nos encarcela en la "comodidad" de piscinas artificiales, donde intermediarios rocían nuestras aguas restrictivas con copos desinfectados de nutrientes procesados.

  Tom Robbins

  God, Thinking, Aquariums

  Tom Robbins (2003). "Piernas flacas y todo", p.195, Bantam

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• No podemos ganar contra la obsesión. A ellos les importa, a nosotros no. Ellos ganan.

  Douglas Adams

  Winning, Psychology, Care

  Douglas Adams (2009). “Life, the Universe and Everything”, p.75, Pan Macmillan

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• I was walking down the road with two friends when the sun set; suddenly, the sky turned as red as blood. I stopped and leaned against the fence, feeling unspeakably tired. Tongues of fire and blood stretched over the bluish black fjord. My friends went on walking, while I lagged behind, shivering with fear. Then I heard the enormous infinite scream of nature.

  Edvard Munch

  Tired, Fire, Blood

  Edvard Munch, José María Faerna (1996). “Munch”, Harry N. Abrams

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• We're not obsessed by anything, you see," insisted Ford. "..." "And that's the deciding factor. We can't win against obsession. They care, we don't. They win." "I care about lots of things," said Slartibartfast, his voice trembling partly with annoyance, but partly also with uncertainty. "Such as?" "Well," said the old man, "life, the Universe. Everything, really. Fjords." "Would you die for them?" "Fjords?" blinked Slartibartfast in surprise. "No." "Well then." "Wouldn't see the point, to be honest.

  Douglas Adams

  Winning, Men, Voice

  Douglas Adams (2017). “The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy Omnibus: A Trilogy in Four Parts”, p.357, Pan Macmillan

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• I was walking along a road one evening – on one side lay the city, and below me was the fjord. The sun went down – the clouds were stained red, as if with blood. I felt as though the whole of nature was screaming – it seemed as though I could hear a scream. I painted that picture, painting the clouds like real blood. The colours screamed.

  Edvard Munch

  Real, Clouds, Blood

  Edvard Munch, Elvira Maluquer, Caja de Pensiones para la Vejez y de Ahorros. Centre Cultural (1986). “Much: catàleg de l'exposició 1863-1944 : 27 de gener-22 de març, 1987”

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• There is no more sagacious animal than the Icelandic horse. He is stopped by neither snow, nor storm, nor impassable roads, nor rocks, glaciers, or anything. He is courageous, sober, and surefooted. He never makes a false step, never shies. If there is a river or fjord to cross (and we shall meet with many) you will see him plunge in at once, just as if he were amphibious, and gain the opposite bank.

  Julio Verne

  Horse, Animal, Rocks

  Jules Verne (2016). “EXTRAORDINARY JOURNEYS “ Complete Collection: 41 Adventure Classics in One Volume (Illustrated): Science Fiction, Adventure, Mystery and Suspense: Journey to the Centre of the Earth, From the Earth to the Moon, Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea and many more”, p.363, e-artnow

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• And the view was suddenly clear to me. The world opened out to its grim beyonds and I realized that, at forty, one must learn the rigors of acceptance. Capitalize it: Acceptance. I needed to accept what was put before me--be it a watery grave in Ireland's only natural fjord, or a return to the city and its grayer intensities, or a wordless exile in some steaming Cambodian swamp hole, or poems or no poems, or children or not, lovers or not, illness or otherwise, success or its absence. I would accept all that was put in my way, from here on through until I breathed my last.

  Kevin Barry

  Children, Acceptance, Views

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• Bonnie que nunca había lastimado una cosa inofensiva por malicia. Bonnie, que era como un gatito que se abalanza sobre ninguna presa. Bonnie con su pelo que se llamaba algo fresa pero que parecía simplemente como si estuviera ardiendo. Bonnie la de la piel translúcida con delicados fiordos violetas y estuarios de venas por toda la garganta y la cara interna de los brazos. Bonnie que últimamente se había aficionado a mirarle de reojo con sus grandes ojos de niña grandes y marrones bajo unas pestañas como estrellas...

  L. J. Smith

  Hurt, Stars, Taken

  L J Smith (2010). “Nightfall”, p.100, Hachette UK

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• Me tomé cuatro años de descanso después de 'In the Cut' porque quería ver quién sería sin trabajo. Incluso intenté ser un ermitaño en Nueva Zelanda. Me alojé en una cabaña a dos horas y media de la Routeburn Track, a través de los fiordos de la Isla Sur. Era principios de invierno, así que no había electricidad ni agua corriente.

  Jane Campion

  Correr, Invierno, Corte

  "Jane Campion: 'Hago películas para poder divertirme con los personajes'". Entrevista con Peter Conrad, www.theguardian.com. 17 de octubre de 2009.

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