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Irlandali yazar Brendan Behan'in Uc yil kaldigi Borstal Islahevi'ndeki yasantisini 1958'de yayimladigi Borstal'daki Cocuk (Borstal Boy - Ragazzo del Borstal) romanindan uyarlanan oyun ilk promiyerini 10 Ekim 1967 tarihinde Dublin, Abbey Theatre'da yapti.
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Ingiliz rock grubu Deep Purple, 10.studyo albumu Come Taste the Band'i 10 Ekim 1975'te Purple (Avrupa, Guney Amerika) ve Warner Bros. (Amerila, Kanada, Japonya) etiketleriyle piyasaya surdu.
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Amerikali aktor, yonetmen, yazar, yapimci (George) Orson Welles'in olum yildonumu (10 Ekim 1985)
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Akademi Odullu Rus asilli Amerikali aktor Yul (Borisovich) Brynner'in olum yildonumu (10 Ekim 1985)
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Macar yazar Imre Kertesz’in 10 Ekim 2002 tarihinde ‘Insanligin birikimlerini humanist dusunce etrafinda somutlamasi’ gerekcesiyle Nobel Edebiyat Odulunu kazandigi aciklandi.
"Onlar da istasyondan banyoya gitmislerdi.Bizim gibi onlara da elbise askilari,numaralar ve banyo da nasil davranilacagina iliskin bilgi verilmisti.Iddialara gore berberler de oradaydi ve onlara da sabun verilmisti. Sonra onlar da borularin ve vanalarin bulundug banyo bolumune girmislerdi. Yalniz onlara yukaridan su degil gaz vermislerdi."
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"They too had proceeded from the station to the baths. They too had been informed about the hooks, the numbers, and the washing procedure, just the same as us. The barbers were also there, so it was alleged, and the bars of soap were handed out in just the same way. Then they too had entered the bathroom itself, with the same pipes and showerheads, so I heard, only out of these came, not water, but gas."
Superman'in Clark Kent'i, Emmy ve BAFTA Odullu Amerikali akror, yonetmen, film yapimcisi ve yazar Christopher (D'Olier) Reeve'in olum yildonumu (10 Ekim 2004)
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Turk sair, romanci, dusunur, deneme yazari, gazeteci, senarist ve elestirmen Attila Ilhan’in olum yildonumu (10 Ekim 2005)
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You are indispensable; how can you not know
that you’re like nails riveting my brain?
I see your eyes as ever-expanding dimensions.
You are indispensable; how can you not know
that I burn within, at the thought of you?
Trees prepare themselves for autumn;
can this city be our lost Istanbul?
Now clouds disintegrate in the darkness
as the street lights flicker
and the streets reek with rain.
You are indispensable, and yet you are absent ...
Love sometimes is akin to terror:
a man tires suddenly at nightfall,
of living enslaved to the razor at his neck.
Sometimes he wrings his hands,
expunging other lives from his existence.
Sometimes whichever door he knocks
echoes back only heartache.
A screechy phonograph is playing in Fatih ...
a song about some Friday long ago.
I stop to listen from a vacant corner,
longing to bring you an untouched sky,
but time disintegrates in my hands.
Whatever I do, wherever I go,
you are indispensable, and yet you are absent ...
Are you the blue child of June?
Ah, no one knows you, no one knows!
Your deserted eyes are like distant freighters ...
perhaps you are boarding in Yesilköy?
Are you drenched there, shivering with the rain
that leaves you blind, beset, ravished,
with wind-disheveled hair?
Whenever I think of life
seated at the wolves’ table,
shameless, yet without soiling our hands ...
Yes, whenever I think of life,
I begin with your name, defying the silence,
and your secret tides surge within me
making this voyage inevitable.
You are indispensable; how can you not know?
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Quando i tuoi occhi toccavano i miei
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo
Sapevo che non mi amavi
Sentivo che amavi qualcun altro
Un ragazzo magro come una paglia
Una persona inutile a mio parere
E quando lo vedevo davanti a me
Temevo che lo uccidessi
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo
Quando passavo da Macka
C’erano sempre delle navi al porto
Gli alberi sorridevano come gli uccelli
Un vento mi rubava la coscienza
E tu fumavi tranquillamente
Bruciavi le punte delle mie dita
Mi raffreddavo, tremando
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo
Le sere finivano come i romanzi
Gezabele giaceva nel sangue
Una nave partiva dal porto
E tu partivi con essa
Partivi per lui
Partivi come le candele nella benzina
Ci rimanevi, fino alla mattina
Un ragazzo magro come una paglia
Quando sorrideva assomigliava ad un cadavere
E quando ti abbracciava…
Era la mia catastrofe, e piangevo
Irlandali roman yazari (William) John Banville, 10 Ekim 2005 tarihinde Deniz ((The Sea - Il Mare) romaniyla Man Booker Odulu’nu aldi.
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“Rose kapida duruyordu. Uzerinde mayosu vardi ama ayagina siyah ayakkabilarini gecirmisti, bu da uzun soluk siska bacaklarini daha da uzun, daha da soluk, daha da siska gosteriyordu. Bir eli kapida, digeri de esigin uzerinde, sanki biri kabinden yuzune dogru, digeri disaridan gelip de arkasindan bastiran iki guclu ruzgarin arasinda dengede tutuluyormus gibiydi, bana ne oldugunu bilemedigim bir seyi hatirlatiyordu.”
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“Rose was standing in the doorway. She was in her bathing suit but was wearing her black pumps, which made her long pale skinny legs seem even longer and plaer and skinner. She reminded me of something, I could not think what, one hand on the door and the other on the door-jamb, seeming to be held suspended there between two strong gusts, one from inside the hut driving against her and another from outside pressing at her back.”