Manuscript page from Orhan Pamuk’s notebook for The Black Book.
"It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.”
A letter from Akira Kurosawa to Ingmar Bergman in honor of the latter’s 70th birthday. Originally published in Chaplin film magazine, 1988.
Cowards die many times before their deaths,
The valiant never taste of death but once.
Of all the wonders that I yet have heard,
It seems to me most strange that men should fear,
Seeing that death, a necessary end,
Will come when it will come.
Nelson Mandela’s favorite Shakespeare passage. Above, a handwritten draft page from his memoirs. (via)
Kees VAN DONGEN (1877-1968), painter
Autograph letter signed to his dear “Cruey”. Monday, 1 in-8 octavo pp.
illegible bit of manuscript from Ulysses in Joyce’s hand, reads :
By Bachelor’s walk jogjingle
jaunted Blazes Boylan, bachelor.
In sun, in heat, warmseated,
sprawled, mare’s glossy rump
atrot. Horn, Have you the ?
Horn. Have you the ? Haw
Manuscript page from Ryu Murakami’s Almost Transparent Blue
Charles Darwin in letter to friend: “But I am very poorly today and very stupid and hate everyone and everything.”