No subscription or hidden extras
Read through the most famous quotes by topic #north
Yes. Kissing. Overrated." "I could change your mind," Zach said, surprising the hell out of them both. Why would he take something as simple as this banter as a challenge? "I don't know that I want to, but I feel right sure I could." "How arrogant. How typically male." "I suppose." He shrugged and reached for the wine bottle. "More?" She nodded, frowning now. "How do you know you could change my mind? It's been a long time since you... well—" "Over two years." The pain was there, an ache in his chest he imagined he would feel every time he thought of Hannah. And he thought of her every day. Dreamed of her about as often. But lately, maybe only in the past week, he'd begun to realize that his life had not ended with his wife's. He either had to die or start living again. ↗
Chang-bo took to his bed, or rather to the quilts on the floor that was all they had left. His legs swelled up like balloons with what Mrs. Song had come to recognize as edema — fluid retention brought on by starvation. He talked incessantly about food. He spoke of the tofu soups his mother made him as a child and an unusually delicious meal of steamed crab with ginger that Mrs. Song had cooked for him when they were newlyweds. He had an uncanny ability to remember details of dishes she had cooked decades earlier. He was sweetly sentimental, even romantic, when he spoke about their meals together. He would take her hand in his own, his eyes wet and cloudy with the mist of his memories. “Come, darling. Let’s go to a good restaurant and order a nice bottle of wine,” he told his wife one morning when they were stirring on the blankets. They hadn’t eaten in three days. Mrs. Song looked at her husband with alarm, worried that he was hallucinating. She ran out the door to the market, moving fast and forgetting all about the pain in her back. She was determined to steal, beg — whatever it took — to get some food for her husband. She spotted her older sister selling noodles. Her sister wasn’t faring well — her skin was flaked just like Chang-bo’s from malnutrition — so Mrs. Song had resisted asking her for help, but now she was desperate, and of course, her sister couldn’t refuse. “I’ll pay you back,” Mrs. Song promised as she ran back home, the adrenaline pumping her legs. Chang-bo was curled up on his side under the blanket. Mrs. Song called his name. When he didn’t respond, she went to turn him over — it wasn’t diffcult now that he had lost so much weight, but his legs and arms were stiff and got in the way. Mrs. Song pounded and pounded on his chest, screaming for help even as she knew it was too late. ↗
In the distance of my years I cover myself with time Like a blanket which enfolds me with the layers of my life. What can I tell you except that I have gone nowhere and everywhere? What can I tell you except that I have not begun my journey now that it is through? All that I ever was and am yet to be lies within me now this way. There is the Young Boy in me traveling east With the Eagle which taught me to see far and wide. The Eagle took his distance and said, There is a Time for Rising Above So that you do not think Your small world too important. There is a time for turning your vision toward the sky. There is the Young Girl in me traveling west With the Bear which taught me to look inside. The Bear stood by himself and said, There is a Time for Being Alone So that you do not take on The appearance of your friends. There is a time for being at home with yourself. There is the Old Man in me traveling north With the Buffalo which taught me wisdom. The Buffalo disappeared and said, There is a Time for Believing Nothing So that you do not speak What you have already heard. There is a Time for Keeping Quiet. There is the Old Woman in me traveling south With the Mouse which taught me my limitations. The Mouse lay close to the ground and said, There is a Time for Taking Comfort in Small Things So that you do not feel Forgotten in the night. There is a Time for enjoying the Worm. That is the way it was. That is the way it shall continue With the Eagle and the Bear With the Buffalo and the Mouse In all directions joined with me To form the circle of my life. I am an Eagle. The small world laughs at my deeds. But the great sky keeps to itself My thoughts of immortality. I am a Bear. In my solitude I resemble the wind. I blow the clouds together So they form images of my friends. I am a Buffalo. My voice echoes inside my mouth. All that I have learned in life I share with the smoke of my fire. I am a Mouse. My life is beneath my nose. Each time that I journey toward the horizon I find a hole instead. ↗
A local phrase book, entitled Speak in Korean, has the following handy expressions. In the section 'On the Way to the Hotel': 'Let's Mutilate US Imperialism!' In the section 'Word Order': 'Yankees are wolves in human shape—Yankees / in human shape / wolves / are.' In the section 'Farewell Talk': 'The US Imperialists are the sworn enemy of the Korean people.' Not that the book is all like this—the section 'At the Hospital' has the term solsaga ('I have loose bowels'), and the section 'Our Foreign Friends Say' contains the Korean for 'President Kim Il Sung is the sun of mankind.' I wanted a spare copy of this phrase book to give to a friend, but found it was hard to come by. Perhaps this was a sign of a new rapprochement with the United States, or perhaps it was because, on page 46, in the section on the seasons, appear the words: haemada pungnyoni dumnida ('We have a bumper harvest every year'). ↗
#famine #imperialism #kim-il-sung #korean-language #language
North Korea is a famine state. In the fields, you can see people picking up loose grains of rice and kernels of corn, gleaning every scrap. They look pinched and exhausted. In the few, dingy restaurants in the city, and even in the few modern hotels, you can read the Pyongyang Times through the soup, or the tea, or the coffee. Morsels of inexplicable fat or gristle are served as 'duck.' One evening I gave in and tried a bowl of dog stew, which at least tasted hearty and spicy—they wouldn't tell me the breed—but then found my appetite crucially diminished by the realization that I hadn't seen a domestic animal, not even the merest cat, in the whole time I was there. ↗
Sanctions make a substantial contribution to power based on privation, and they have never hurt a single despot in the whole history of their use. ↗
#international-sanctions #iraq #iraq-sanctions #kim-jong-il #north-korea
I am now completing research supported by NSF and NEH that is mapping changes in the English language through all of North America, for both mainstream and minority communities. ↗
This African American Vernacular English shares most of its grammar and vocabulary with other dialects of English. But it is distinct in many ways, and it is more different from standard English than any other dialect spoken in continental North America. ↗
We are having the single worst recovery the U.S. has had since the Great Depression. I don't care how you measure it. The East Coast knows it. The West Coast knows it. North, South, old, young, everyone knows it's the worst recovery since the Great Depression. ↗
