Frases de Anthony Burgess página 3

“Ser bueno puede llegar a ser algo horrible.”

“Quizás el hombre que elige el mal es en cierto modo mejor que aquel a quien se le impone el bien”

A Clockwork Orange

“El hombre que no puede elegir ha perdido la condición humana.”

A Clockwork Orange

“Pero hermanos, este morderse las uñas acerca de la causa de la maldad es lo que me da verdadera risa. No les preocupa saber cuál es la causa de la bondad, y entonces, ¿por qué quieren averiguar el otro asunto? Si los liudos (individuos) son buenos es porque les gusta, y ni se me ocurriría interferir en sus placeres, así que lo mismo deberían hacer en el otro negocio. Y yo soy cliente del otro negocio.”

A Clockwork Orange

“Hay pecado supongo, pero el castigo fue del todo desproporcionado. Te han convertido en algo que ya no es una criatura humana. Ya no estás en condiciones de elegir. Estás obligado a tener una conducta que la sociedad considera aceptable, y eres una máquina que sólo puede hacer bien".”

A Clockwork Orange

“Algunas veces no es grato ser bueno, pequeño 6655321. Ser bueno puede llega a ser algo horrible. Y te lo digo sabiendo que puede ser una afirmación muy contradictoria. ¿Qué quiere Dios, el bien o que uno elija el camino del bien? Quizás el hombre que elige el mal es en cierto modo mejor que aquel a quien se le impone el bien.”

Frases de hombres de Anthony Burgess

“Algunas veces no es grato ser bueno, pequeño 6655321. Ser bueno puede llegar a ser algo horrible. Y te lo digo sabiendo que quizá te parezca una afirmación muy contradictoria. Sé que esto me costará muchas noches de insomnio. ¿Qué quiere Dios? ¿El bien o que uno elija el camino del bien? Quizás el hombre que elige el mal es en cierto modo mejor que aquel a quien se le impone el bien. Son problemas profundos y difíciles, pequeño 6655321.”

A Clockwork Orange

“Él ordeñaría al hombre blanco ... El hombre blanco tenía más dinero que sentido.”

A Clockwork Orange

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“(Singapur) no es ni siquiera un lugar donde a un hombre blanco se le permite desmoronarse...”

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“¿Es mejor para un hombre haber elegido el mal que tener el bien impuesto sobre él?”

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“Oh, era suntuoso, y la suntuosidad hecha carne. Los trombones crujían como láminas de oro bajo mi cama, y detrás de mi golová las trompetas lanzaban lenguas de plata, y al lado de la puerta los timbales me asaltaban las tripas y brotaban otra vez como un trueno de caramelo. Oh, era una maravilla de maravillas. Y entonces, como un ave de hilos entretejidos del más raro metal celeste, o un vino de plata que flotaba en una nave del espacio, perdida toda gravedad, llegó el solo de violín imponiéndose a las otras cuerdas, y alzó como una jaula de seda alrededor de mi cama. Aquí entraron la flauta y el oboe, como gusanos platinados, en el espeso tejido de plata y oro. Yo volaba poseído por mi propio éxtasis, oh hermanos.”

Anthony Burgess Frases y Citas

“Bueno, que me cuelguen si no es ese gordo maloliente, el cabrón Billy y toda la porquería. ¿Cómo estás, botellón de aceite de cocina barato? Acércate, que te daré una en los yarblocos, si es que los tienes, eunuco grasiento.”

A Clockwork Orange

“Las cosas serán siempre peores, nunca mejores.
Qué nuevo mundo están preparándose ustedes.”

A Clockwork Orange

“Es tan inhumano ser totalmente bueno como totalmente malvado. Lo importante es la elección moral.”

A Clockwork Orange

“El enfoque científico de la vida no es necesariamente apropiado para los estados de angustia visceral.”

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“... ¿Solo ustedes malditos hipócritas con sus cuatro esposas y sus diez mil horas en el cielo? ...”

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“Bien alimentado y licuado, respondí con ardor.”

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“Los escritores no son, por naturaleza, respetables: su función es ser subversivos.”

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“¿Qué va a pasar entonces, eh?”

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“Me curé bien.”

“... Tu pequeño feuilleton ... grabando ... el crudo filisteísmo de mi nabob ...”

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“excita el páncreas a nuevos esfuerzos”

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“La iglesia sostiene que puede ser maltratada, pero los puños que la maltratan conocen su propia impotencia.”

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“Las lenguas nunca se detienen. La ortografía moderna cristaliza las pronunciaciones perdidas: lo visual nunca alcanza a lo auditivo.”

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“… Prefiero pensar en las [mujeres jóvenes] menos como seres humanos que como parcelas llenas de reflejos televisivos.”

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“Mientras caminaba hacia el viaje, esa ilusión de liberación, extrañamente me sentí caminando de regreso a la infancia.”

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“Todo fuera Quiero verte en tu horrible desnudez sucia, peluda y barrigada.”

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“…all heroes and heroines trying to approximate, through barriers of pigmentation, to the Hebraico-Caucasian norm of Hollywood”

Anthony Burgess: Frases en inglés

“I come here to your beautiful country -’ Mr Raj saw through the window bare branches, coil after coil of dirty clouds, washing on neighbour lines, forlorn pecking birds, a distant brace of gasometers. ‘- your beautiful country, I say,’ he said defiantly. ‘…So far I have had mixed career. Fights and insults, complete lack of sexual sustenance - most necessary to men in prime of life - and inability to find accommodation commensurate with social position and academic attainments…”

Fiction, Devil of a State (1961)

“Some young men could not afford to marry or were statutorily forbidden to do so, and then their visits to Japanese brothels engendered guilt as well as VD. The official attitude to taking brown mistresses was always ambivalent. It let the side down, but a sleeping dictionary was the only way to learn the language. Mr Butcher is good on all this, and he gives such tables as one headed ‘Ethnicity of Women from whom European Men Treated at the Sultan Street Clinic Contracted Venereal Disease, 1927-1931.’ The girls of Siam were the great infectresses, but the Malays came a close second. The Japanese, who had regular medical inspections and lived in brothels cleaner than hotels, were down with the Eurasians to 0.4% in 1931. This damnable sex, by no means to be tamed by quinine or cricket. Guilt guilt guilt….”

Fiction, The Right to an Answer (1960)

“That’s what it’s going to be then, brothers, as I come to the like end of this tale. You have been everywhere with your little droog Alex, suffering with him, and you have viddied some of the most grahzny bratchnies old Bog ever made, all on to your old droog Alex. And all it was was that I was young. But now as I end this story, brothers, I am not young, not no longer, oh no. Alex like groweth up, oh yes.”

Non-Fiction, Homage to QWERT YUIOP: Selected Journalism 1978-1985 (1986)

“…jumped-up commercials pretending, too late, to be the ruling class..”

Fiction, A Clockwork Orange (1962)

“…it was a cardinal rule in the East not to show one’s true feelings.”

Fiction, The Right to an Answer (1960)

“Lydgate opened the sort of letter…”My dear husband I very good…I come in flying ship…we be very happy…love.” It was as satisfactory a letter as he had ever received from a woman.”

Fiction, Time for a Tiger (1956)

“Vorpal had the trick of adding a Malay enclitic to his utterances. This also had power to irritate, especially in the mornings. It irritated Nabby Adams that this should irritate him, but somewhere at the back of his brain was the contempt of the man learned in languages for the silly show-off, jingling the small change of ‘wallah’ and charpoy…”

Fiction, Devil of a State (1961)

“…Women I do not much care for myself - I prefer little Greek shepherd-boys…”

Fiction, Time for a Tiger (1956)

“…a victim of bad medicine, bad air, bad food, farcical education, a despicable popular culture.”

Fiction, Tremor of Intent (1966)

“Disgusting, ridiculous, when other people did it.”

Fiction, 1985 (1978)

“I knew im, she knew im, e knew im, we all knew im.’ After this paradigm, which impressed his hearers, he paused. ‘E was a customer ere. Not perhaps one of the best customers. Not like Roger Alliwell ere oo drinks whisky to the tune of near one bottle a day, which is good for the ouse and, as far as we can see, does imself no arm. But e was a customer, loyal to the ouse, regular in attendance, and that’s all we ask of any man or woman for that matter. Well, now e’s gone. We’re sorry e’s gone. You’re sorry e’s gone. I’m sorry e’s gone. And we can’t say much more than that. Now the question is: is e gone to a better place? I don’t know the answer to that, nor do you, nor does she. Perhaps e knows,’ said Ted, shrugging towards the vicar, ‘because it’s is job to know. But the rest of us don’t know. Right. But I say this. E done is best for all. Never a ard word come out of that man’s art. Right. Well loved e was and for all is faults we would love im still, if e was still alive. But e’s dead now and we wish im all the best in is new destination. And I can’t say no fairer than that.”

Fiction, Devil of a State (1961)

“Men are influenced by big loud empty words, styes which swell the eyelids and impede vision of the truth.”

Fiction, The Right to an Answer (1960)

“I should want to go home, like Fenella. I should be so tired of the shambles here, the obscurantism, the colour-prejudice, the laziness and ignorance, as to desire nothing better than a headship in a cold stone country school in England. But I love this country. I feel protective towards it. Sometimes just before dawn breaks, I feel that somehow I enclose it, contain it. I feel that it needs me. This is absurd, because snakes and scorpions are ready to bite me, a drunken Tamil is prepared to knife me, the Chinese in the town would like to spit at me, some day a Malay boy will run amok and try to tear me apart. But it doesn’t matter. I want to live here; I want to be wanted. Despite the sweat, despite the fever, the prickly heat, the mosquitoes, the terrorists, the fools at the bar of the club, despite Fenella.”

Non-Fiction, Here Comes Everybody: An Introduction to James Joyce for the Ordinary Reader (1965)

“Sit like a fool then, crassly emptying
Glass after wineglass in some foul tavern,
Watching the night and its candles gutter,
Snoring at sunrise.
In England now the wind blows high
And clouds brush rudely at the sky;
The blood runs thinly through my frame,
I half-caress the hearthstone’s flame,
Oppressed by autumn’s desolate cry.
Then homesick for the south am I,
For where the lucky swallows fly,
But each warm land is just a name
In England now.
The luckless workers I espy
With chins dipped low and collars high,
Walk into winter, do not blame
The shifting globe. A gust of shame
Represses my unmanly sigh
In England now.”

Fiction, Time for a Tiger (1956)

“…enjoyed Dravidian transports.”

English Literature: A Survey for Students.
Poetry

“…the whole world here breathed easy concupiscence…”

Fiction, Tremor of Intent (1966)

“it excites the pancreas to fresh efforts”

Fiction, The Enemy in the Blanket (1958)

“an Australian…. They have suffered under the yoke of the English…”

Fiction, Beds in the East (1959)

“…Just you bloody hypocrites with your four wives and your ten thousand houris in heaven?…”

Fiction, Beds in the East (1959)

“Why then are the arts and sciences important? I suppose with the sciences we could say that the answer is obvious: we have radium, penicillin, television and recorded sound, motor-cars and aircraft, air-conditioning and central heating. But these achievements have never been the primary intention of science; they are a sort of by-product, the things that emerge only when the scientist has performed his main task. That task is simply stated: to be curious, to keep on asking the question 'Why?' and not to be satisfied till an answer has been found. The scientist is curious about the universe: he wants to know why water boils at one temperature and freezes at another; why cheese is different from chalk; why one person behaves differently from another. Not only 'Why?' but ‘What?' What is salt made of? What are the stars? What is the constitution of all matter? The answers to these questions do not necessarily malke our lives any easier. The answer to one question—'Can the atom be split?' - has made our lives somewhat harder. But the questions have to be asked. It is man's job to be curious; it is man's job to try to find out the truth about the world about us, to answer the big question 'What is the world really like?”

Fiction, Devil of a State (1961)

“Stamping around, waiting, I cursed England aloud, hands dug deep into pockets, dancing to the wind that knocked in vain at the Sunday shops. Cigarette-packets, football fixtures, bus-tickets sailed by in dust-ghosts of Saturday. A woman with a puce face and a blancmange-coloured prayer-book was waiting also for The Priest and Pig, and she looked puce disapproval at me. Twenty minutes late, the bus yawned in from town, near-empty, and it swallowed us in a gape of Sunday ennui. So we sundayed along, rattling and creaking in Sunday hollowness, I upstairs, tearing my elevenpenny ticket while I read the prospectus of Winter Commercial Classes stuck on the window.”

Non-Fiction, English Literature: A Survey for Students (1958, revised 1974)

“Around them the gawping locals sat, amazed with an amazement that never grew less…”

Fiction, The Right to an Answer (1960)

“…reality’s always dull, you know…”

Fiction, Time for a Tiger (1956)

“Pornography…. the reader panting, eventually masturbating”

Fiction, Time for a Tiger (1956)

“He would milk the white man…. The white man had more money than sense.”

Non-Fiction, A Mouthful of Air: Language and Languages, Especially English (1992)

“…an Empire now crashing about their ears. The Sikh smiled at the vanity of human aspirations.”

Fiction, The Enemy in the Blanket (1958)

“She is a goddess,’ said Ambrose, drunkenly and stoutly. ‘…And she wants me. She’s the pursuer…She’s the epitome of woman, not,’ he said, ‘not a second-hand bundle of coy erogeneity draped,’ he said, ‘in an all-too-diaphanous robe,’ he said, ‘of pudeur.”

Fiction, The Enemy in the Blanket (1958)

“…as the cinema shows us, they are much more accessible and, for that matter, much more wanton than our own women”

Fiction, The Eve of St. Venus (1964)

“Grimaldi and a sixteen-year-old girl still at Hollywood High. He was a good journalist but he was going to die soon. At fifty he was on a bottle and a half of Californian brandy a day and four packs of Lucky Strike. His clothes smelt as though they were seeped in tobacco juice. His white forlock was stained with it…”

Fiction, Time for a Tiger (1956)