Old Souls

          The priest’s words passed through me as though in another language. I couldn’t hear or see or think. All I could do was focus on breathing and try not to pass out.            Word must have spread like wildfire about my renewed vocal abilities because the church wasn’t engulfed in a sea of whispers when it came time for my vows.           “Noemi, do you take Conner to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better  or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?”            I forced air into my lungs.            “I do.”            Three letters. Two words. One life forever forfeited.            As a man, Conner was given freedoms in this world that a woman could only dream of. He was committing himself, but not to the same degree as me because he’d already accepted a life in the criminal underworld. By walking down that aisle,

          “People with a long, straight heart line are usually good lovers,” I say with a playful smirk.            “Makes sense,” he jokes, and I find myself giggling and my cheeks warming.            “It also means you are expressive, romantic, and value true love in your life.”            “Hmm…”            “Look, mine is long  too.” I open my palm for him, showing him where the horizontal line starts at my index finger and stretches all the way across my hand, without any breaks or curves.            “Doesn’t everyone have love in their life?” He sounds unimpressed.            Squeezing his open hand in mine, I give him a terse glare. “Not just any love, Emerson. It  means you’ll have true, all-consuming, intoxicating, lifechanging, earth-shattering love. Love you would die for. That you couldn’t possibly live without. Love that makes it hard to breathe. Like you can feel it not just in your heart but in your veins and your bones and your muscles. Everywhere.”   - Sara Cate, Praise,

          It was my mom who taught me to swim. Years later, she said it was because she was so bitter that my father got to teach me everything else—riding a bike, how to start a fire, how to build shelter from discarded wood—and she wanted to pass a skill onto me, too. She took me to the lake by our cabin, bundled me into our boat and rowed us out into the middle of the water. Jump, she’d said, before folding her arms and staring at me, expectantly.           I’d laughed. Mom was known for her sense of humor. But when she didn’t crack a smile I realized she wasn’t joking, and the panic started to seep in around my edges, I reached for the oars to row back to shore, but she pushed me back down on the boat bench with a firm hand.          Jump , she repeated. Because when you jump, you’ll find your wings as you fall.           I glanced up at my father, who was hovering nervously on the bank, clutching a life buoy. I swallowed the fear rising up my throat, balled my fists, and I jumped

         " Sylvia Beach'in kitaplığını keşfettiğim günden sonra Turgenyev'in tüm kitaplarını ve Gogol'dan basılmış İngilizce ne kadar kitap varsa, ayrıca Tolstoy'un Constance Garmett çevirilerini ve Çehov'un İngilizce çevirilerini okumuştum. Karımla Paris'e ilk gelişimizden önce Toronto'da bana Katherine Mansfield'in iyi, dahası büyük kısa öykü yazarı olduğu söylenmişti. ama Çehov'dan sonra Mansfield'i okumaya çalışmak, iyi ve yalın bir yazar olan, güzel konuşan, bilgili bir hekimin öykülerinden sonra ihtiyar bir kızın özene bezene uydurduğu masalları dinlemeye benziyordu. Mansfield, su katılmış bira gibiydi. Oun yerine su içmek daha iyi olurdu. Fakat Çehov'da duruluğu dışında suyla iniltili tek şey yoktu. Gazete haberi gibi kokan bazı öyküleri yok değildi. Fakat son derece güzel olanları da vardı.          Dostoyevski'de inanılır ve inanılmayacak şeyler vardı ama bazısı öylesine gerçekti ki okurken insanı değiştirirdi; ondaki zayıfl

         "Benim savaşçılık pratiğim dört ilkede özetlenebilir. Birincisi: Yalnız zafer kazanana saldırırım, gerekirse zafer kazanmasını bekleyerek.          İkincisi: Kendime hiçbir müttefik bulamayacağım, tek başıma kalacağım ve yalnız kendi adımı tehlikeye atacağım şeylere saldırırım... İnsanların önünde, tehlikesiz tek bir adım bile atmadım; budur benim doğru davranış ölçütüm.          Üçüncüsü: Şahıslara saldırmam; onları genel ama gizlice yayılan ve yakalanması güç bir tehlike durumunu görünür kılmak için bir büyüteç gibi kullanırım. Böyle saldırdım David Strauss'a; daha doğrusu miladı dolmuş bir kitabın Alman eğitimindeki başarısına; bu kültürü suçüstü yakalamıştım. Wagner'lere böyle saldırdım; daha doğrusu rafine olanı zengin olanla, geç geleni büyük oalnla karıştıran kültürümüzün sahteliğine, içgüdü karmaşasına.          Dördüncüsü: Her türlü şahsi farklılığın dışlandığı, geçmişinde kötü deneyimler bulunmayan şeylere saldırırım yalnızca. Aksine, saldırmak benim içi

“Çünkü senin bu mantığına göre çobanlar veya sığırtmaçlar, kendilerinin veya efendilerinin çıkarlarını değil, sürülerinin çıkarlarını düşünerek onları güderler. Aynı şekilde sanıyorsun ki devletlerin yöneticileri, gerçek yöneticiler, kendilerine tabi olanları çobanın sürüsünü gördüğü gibi görmezler; kendi çıkarları için gece gündüz çalışmaktansa, onların çıkarları için uğraşır dururlar. Ve adalet ve hak, adaletsizlik ve haksızlık hakkında düşünürken o kadar yanlış yollara saptın ki adaletin ve adil olanın gerçekte başkalarının yararına, yani, güçlü olanın ve böylelikle de yönetenin çıkarına uygunken bu güçlü kimseye tabi itaat edenlerin çıkarına aykırı olan şey olduğunu unuttun; öte yandan, adaletin tersi olan haksızlık da, safları ve doğruları parmağında oynatır, onlara hükmederken, tabi olanlar, güçlünün çıkarına olan şeyleri yaparlar, ona hizmet ederek kendi mutluluklarını değil, güçlünün mutluluğunu sağlarlar. “Benim saf Sokrates’im; adil olanın her yerde haksıza ne kadar çok boyun

          She waltzes over to me, hips swaying. Then, fast as lightning, she reaches up and brushes her mouth over my scarred cheek.           My breath hitches as she lingers, her fingers lightly caressing the line from my temple to my neck. My heart twinges, shifting in my chest, aching for . . . something I can’t have.           She stares at me. “I like your face. It’s you. Oh, you were pretty before the scars—in fact, I liked to call you Henry Cavill . . . that jawline is wicked hot—but now . . .” Her shoulders shift. “You have character. Meaning. You survived and came out on the other side flawed . . . yet beautiful.”           I frown, grappling with how I feel about her words. “I’m not beautiful.”           “Beauty isn’t on the outside. I learned that in the pageants. I met some beautiful women who were ugly on the inside and some who were incredible. Beauty is how we go on, the life we create around us. Living a life that’s meaningful. I’m not sure I’m there, to be honest. I’m

          The tension was so thick I could taste it in my throat, but I pushed forward, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.           “We’re only together because of a deal you made with my father. What’s it to you if my ex shows back up in my life? You know the wedding would move forward either way,” I said. “Are you afraid I’ll break the engagement? Run off with Heath and leave you looking like a fool in front of your friends? Why do you care?”           “I don’t know!” The force of his reply stunned me into silence.           Dante’s granite mask cracked, revealing the torment underneath.           “I don’t know why I care. I just know I do, and I hate it.” Self-loathing coated his voice. “I hate the idea of you touching anyone else, or anyone else touching you. I hate that other people can make you laugh in a way I can’t. I hate how I feel around you, like you’re the only person that can make me lose control when I. Don’t. Lose. Control.”           Every word, every step b

Güzel ve çirkin: Bizim güzellik anlayışımızdan daha çok koşula bağlı ya da diyelim ki daha dar kafalı bir şey yoktur. Kim bu anlayışı, insanın insandan aldığı hazdan ayrı düşünmeye çalışırsa ayaklarının altındaki zemini hemen yitirecektir. “Özünde güzel” yalnızca bir sözdür, kavram bile değildir. İnsanoğlu, güzellikte kusursuzluğun ölçüsünü bulur; bazı durumlarda güzelliğinden dolayı kendine tapınır. Hiçbir tür kendi kendini bu derece olumlayamaz . Onun en derin deki içgüdüsü, varlığını koruma ve neslini sürdürme içgüdüsü, bu tür yüceltme biçimleriyle kendini gösterebilir. İnsanoğlu, dünyanın güzellikle dopdolu olduğuna inanır, onu yaratanın kendisi olduğunu unutur . Dünyaya güzellik bağışlayan tek balına kendisidir, ah! Çok insanca, bütünüyle pek insanca bir güzellik… İnsanoğlu temelde kendi yansımasını eşyada bulur, kendi resmini yansıtan her şeyi güzel kabul eder. “Güzel” yargısı onun türünün zarafet budalalığı dır… Küçük bir işkillenme kuşkucunun kulağına şu soruyu fısıldayabili

          "They never leave us, do they? The ones who come before us. I wish I knew why."           Haltingly, then, I spoke of the Theories I had propounded on this very question. "There are times," I declared, "When I believe the dead haunt us because we love them too little. We forget them, you see; we don't mean to, but we do. All our sorrow and pity subside for a time, and in that interval, however long it lasts, I believe they feel most cruelly deserted. And so they clamor for us. They wish to be recalled to our hearts. So as not to be murdered twice over.           "Other times," I continued, "I believe we love them too much. And as a consequence they are never free to depart, because we carry them, our most deeply beloved, within ourselves. Never dead, never silent, never appeased."           "Revenants," she said, eyeing me closely.           "Yes, I suppose so. But how can they be said to return when they have ne

          I pull his hands down from his eyes so I can look in them. “Listen to me. It is not the things you do that make you worthy, it’s that you have a beating heart in your chest. You have a soul, which means you are allowed to feel hurt, tired, stressed, sad, angry. All of those things—you are allowed to feel them. Everyone is.” I gather all of my strength for my next words. “Your ability to shoulder everything, to give 200% of yourself all the time, to be perfect at everything you attempt…these are not the attributes that make you a valuable human being.” I pause. “And they are not why I fell in love with you.”           His black eyes shoot up to me.           I smile. The weight of these heavy secrets falls off of me, and I feel relieved to continue. “I fell in love with you because you’re goofy. You’re fun. Your heart is so big I don’t know how it fits in here,” I say, pressing my hand to his chest. “You’re a terrible singer. You make me soup when I’m sick. You bought me tampo

          “Want to know something else cool?” I asked, earning a nod. “I have a mom now. And she’s the best of the best of the best. Her name is Judy. She became my mom when I was twenty.”           “Twenty?” Ancient to a little girl.           “Yep. I was twenty. She met my dad at a restaurant in town. Dad and Judy started talking and then they started dating. And kissing.”           “Kissing is gross.”           I giggled. “Judy and my dad kiss all the time.”           “Eww.”           I pushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “I’m okay with the kissing because she married Dad and asked if she could be my mom. I love her a lot. Do you know why I love her so much?”           “Why?”           “She makes the most amazing chocolate cake. Better than this one.” I tapped her plate. “She always remembers Christmas presents. And because she loves my dad with her whole heart.” - Willa Nash, The Naughty, The Nice and The Nanny  (Holiday Brothers #1)

Odak noktası: Anonymous Kimdir?               Aaron Barr çok kötü bir hata yaptı.               5 Şubat 2011’de HBGary Federal bilgisayar güvenlik şirketinin CEO’su, firmasının Anonymous hacktivist grubuna sızdığını ve San Francisko’daki büyük bir konferansta bulgularını medyaya açıklayacağını duyurdu. Gerçekleşmeyecekti. Wired dergisinin bildirdiği gibi Barr ve şirketi beklediği alkış ve kar yerine “acıyla dolu bir dünyaya” giriş yaptı.               HBGary Federal’in web sitesi Anonymous tarafından çabucak ele geçirildi ve kendi mesajlarını şirketin kendi sitesi üzerinden yayınladılar: “Son zamanlardaki Anonymous’ ‘sızma’ iddialarınız bizleri eğlendiriyor ve kendimize basının ilgisini çekmek için Anonymous’u bir vasıta olarak kullanma çabalarınız da… Farkına varmakta başarısız olduğunuz şey; sadece bir ‘güvenlik’ şirketi ismi ve genel görünüşüne sahip olmanız sebebiyle Anonymous ile kıyaslandığınızda hiçbir şey olduğunuzdur. Sizin güvenlik bilginiz var ile yok arasındadır… Sizler, si

          “You want to save Mom.”           “More than that.” He shrugged. “I guess I want to have a positive influence on this life. Leave the world a better place and all that.” He gave a rueful smile and blew out such a big breath that his cheeks puffed. “But when I woke up in the hospital, I started to question if I was going about it all wrong. Before, I thought having money was the only way to help people, because growing up that seemed to be the only thing capable of solving our problems. But now…” He tilted his head back on the seat rest and groaned. “I love this job,” he said. “I do, and building my career excites the heck out of me. But I don’t know if I want to keep up this pace. I let it monopolize my life, you know? Never made much time for friends or even to ask this girl out that I like.”           “If you want to make a difference, you don’t have to sacrifice your whole life to do it.”           Justin chewed the inside of his cheek.           “Please, don’t take the jo

          “That’s not what I want.”           “A treasure chest of fake diamonds?” He wiped a tear away with a thumb, and the caress pulled honesty from my throat.           “I want you to care...” The words settled so thick and uninvited in the room they made my ears ring. It went so silent one could hear a pin drop. Or a heart-shaped earring.           Ronan’s hand dropped from my face, and with a harsh sound, he pushed away from me. “You’re a goddamn headache, you know that?”           His reaction hit me in the chest. I was the headache? He was the one who was so hot and cold, he gave me whiplash. I may be embarrassing myself again, but at the end of this, I would regret not having told him the truth. I would regret acting as if I didn’t care. Now, he knew, and clearly, he didn’t mean I could have “anything” by his look of disgust. This was turning out to be a really shitty day.           “I guess I’ll take the fake diamonds then,” I muttered and headed to the door.           “I fe

        “I’m sorry,” she said, dragging her eyes back to Daniel. “Could you, um, say that again?”         “I get to live forever,” he repeated. Luce was still lost, but he kept talking, a stream of words pouring out of his mouth. “I get to live, and to watch babies being born, and grow up, and fall in love. I watch them have babies of their own and grow old. I watch them die. I am condemned, Luce, to watch it all over again and again. Everyone but you.” His eyes were glassy. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t get to fall in love—”         “But...” she whispered back. “I’ve... fallen in love.”         “You don’t get to have babies and grow old, Luce.”         “Why not?”         “You come along every seventeen years.”         “Please—”         “We meet. We always meet, somehow we’re always thrown together, no matter where I go, no matter how I try to distance myself from you. It never matters. You always find me.”         He was staring down at his clenched fists now, looking lik

“You have a client to call, remember?” “Never trust a flight attendant or much of anyone with our case work. We’re waiting until we have our drinks and they pull the curtain. And that’s not paranoid. I know an attorney who ran his mouth on a flight. He later found out that the flight attendant had been paid by opposing counsel to listen in on his conversations. Needless to say, the case took a brutally bad turn for him and his client. They lost.” “I would have never been paranoid enough to worry about such a thing,” she admits. “Lesson learned and thankfully not the hard way.” “It’s a good reason to never use your client’s name in public, and a lesson I’ve learned personally from experience, don’t say anything on the phone you don’t want recorded.” “You’ve had that happen?” “Once,” I say. “I almost lost the case over something that wasn’t at all what it was made out to be by the prosecution.” “But you didn’t lose.” “That’s the thing about a winning record,” I say. “Anyone who has one,

He paused for a minute before saying, It all looks so messy. He ran one hand over his short hair . I can't make sense of it all–my past, my life, my love for you. I looked up at him for a minute, watching the emotions cross his face. After a second I brought my hands up . I don't remember a lot about my mom. I shook my head slightly. She passed away from cancer and I was so young when she died . I licked my lips, pausing . But I remember her doing these cross stitches–they're little thread embroidery pictures. Archer watched my hands, glancing up at my face between words. Anyway, one time I picked up one of her pieces and it looked awful–all messy, with all these knots and uneven strings hanging everywhere. I could barely make out what the picture was supposed to be. I kept my eyes on Archer, squeezing his hand quickly before bringing my own back up. But then, my mom came over and took the piece of fabric out of my hands and turned it over–and right there was this masterp

          JOSH: Layla, what would you say is the main conclusion you’ve learned?            LAYLA: I guess that… there’s no formula to a perfect relationship. There’s no checklist you can go down and cross items off. You’ll never be able to get everything right. Everybody has their own issues and baggage and hangups, and there are so many ways we sabotage ourselves from finding love, even if we don’t realise it. But it really is possible for everyone to find their person.             LUKE: Or people.            LAYLA: If you’re very lucky, yeah, people. With some TLC, and a lot of respect and communication, even someone who is absolutely useless at romance, like me, can open up. You might have to work a little harder to make them feel safe. But that’s okay. It’s worth it.            ZACK: (whispering) Okay, for the viewers at home, Josh is looking at Layla like he’s a dying man in a desert and she is an icy-cold glass of lemonade— - Lily Gold, Faking with Benefits 

          Her eyes softened. “I’ve never seen you eat the morning muffin.”           “I have.”           “When?”           I shrugged. “Whenever you sent stuff with the guys on duty. But I don’t let myself eat much of anything you bake.”           “Why?”           “Because it would give too much away. I worried that if I showed how much I loved your food, everyone would see.”           “See what?”           “That I’m in love with you.”           Her breath hitched. “Austin.”           “I love you, Cleo.” Saying the words loosened something in my chest. Something that I’d been holding in for far too long. “I’ve been in love with you since the day I walked into the bakery and spotted you, covered in flour and blueberry stains on your fingers.”           “But that was . . .” Her forehead furrowed. The beginning. I’d been in love with her from the beginning. “All this time?”           I nodded, bringing a hand to cup her cheek. There was no use pretending. We were in this together now, vul