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Amerikali bilim kurgu yazari Clifford Donald Simak’in dogum yildonumu (3 Agustos 1904)

“ ‘Sonuc olarak ne kaldi elimizde?’ diye sordu Webster. ‘Ben size elimizde ne kaldigini soyleyeyim. Sokaklar, bloklar dolusu terk edilmis, insanlarin oylece birakip gittigi evler. Hem kalip da ne yapacaklardi? Kent onlara ne sunabilir ki?’ ” Kent

" ‘So what have we?’ asked Webster.’I'll tell you what we have. Street after street, block after block, of deserted houses, houses that the people just up and walked away from. Why should they have stayed?’ “
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Ingiliz suc romanlari yazari (Phyllis Dorothy James White) P. D. James’in dogum yildonumu (3 Agustos 1920)
“Cornish sahillerinde yer alan Combe adasinin kanli bir gecmisi vardir. Ancak simdi ozel bir vakif tarafindan yonetilen ada, gorevleri dolayisiyla fazlasiyla gergin ve cok unlu konuklara, stresli gorevlerine mola vererek soluklanmalari icin bir firsat sunmaktadir. Ama bu huzur ortami Combe adasindaki konuklardan birinin garip bir sekilde oldurulmesiyle bozulur. Bu garip cinayeti en kisa zamanda ve medya tarafindan duyulmadan aydinlatmasi icin Adam Dalgliesh goreve cagrilir. Dalgliesh, sevdigi kadin Emma Lavenham ile gelecegi konusunda emin degildir, Dedektif Mufettisi Kate Miskin'in kendi duygusal sorunlari vardir ve hirsli Anglo-Hintli Cavus Francis Benton-Smith, Kate’in altinda calismaktan endise duymaktadir. Ancak zamanlama, kendi ic dunyalarinda sorunlar yasayan Adam Dalgliesh ve ekibi icin uygun degildir. Tam karmasik cinayetin nedenlerini cozmeye ve suphelileri ortaya cikarmaya basladiklari sirada acimasiz bir cinayet daha islenir. Bu arada Dalgliesh'in sinsi bir tehlikeyle karsi karsiya kalmasi tum arastirmayi riske atar.”Deniz Feneri

“Combe Island off the Cornish coast has a bloodstained history of piracy and cruelty but now, privately owned, it offers respite to over-stressed men and women in positions of high authority who require privacy and guaranteed security. But the peace of Combe is violated when one of the distinguished visitors is bizarrely murdered. Adam Dalgliesh is called in to solve the mystery quickly and discreetly, but at a difficult time for him and his depleted team. Dalgliesh is uncertain about his future with Emma Lavenham, the woman he loves, Detective Inspector Kate Miskin has her own emotional problems and the ambitious Anglo-Indian Sergeant Francis Benton-Smith is worried about working under Kate. Hardly have the team begun to unravel the complicated motives of the suspects that there is a second brutal killing and the whole investigation is jeopardised when Dalgliesh is faced with a danger more insidious and as potentially fatal as murder.”
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Amerikali sair, edebiyat elestirmeni ve antolojist Hayden Carruth’un dogum yildonumu (3 Agustos 1921)
Hani bir gun bana
senin olumune alisabilmem
katlanabilmem icin
yokluguna
niye bir siir yazmiyorsun
diye sormustun ya bana
inanmayacaksin ama
o gun cok ender
bir gun oldu
kusura bakma
gunes degisik dogdu
bu mevsimde
bu iklimde
alisilmadik etkili
ic isitici
guzel acik gunesli
yasam dolu
hatta olumun golgesi bile
gecmedi aklimin kosesinden
nedir nasildir
dusunmek istemedim
ellerim varmadi
olumu resmetmeye
ulasmak istedim sonsuza
olanaksiz olsa da
zaten
yasamda yasanan tecrubeler
basmakalip olurmus
daima
zamanla
hatta o unlu soz
seninle beraber olacagim
anilarda duslerde
her yerde
sen gittikten sonra
yokluga alistikca
kaldirilmis raflara
oysa ben
gercekten beraber olacagim
seninle
en azindan yadigar biraktigim
binlerce siirle
bu kisa siir musveddesi bile
beni sana animsatacak
istesen de istemesen de
duslerinde ve anilarinda
SIK SIK rahatsiz edecegim seni
kusura kalma

Why don’t you write me a poem that will prepare me for your
death? you said.
It was a rare day here in our climate, bright and sunny. I didn’t feel like
dying that day,
I didn’t even want to think about it – my lovely knees and bold
shoulders broken open,
Crawling with maggots. Good Christ! I stood at the window and I saw
a strange dog
Running in the field with its nose down, sniffing the snow, zigging and
zagging,
And whose dog is that? I asked myself. As if I didn’t know. The limbs
of the apple trees
Were lined with snow, making a bright calligraphy against the world,
messages to me
From an enigmatic source in an obscure language. Tell me, how shall I
decipher them?
And a jay slanted down to the feeder and looked at me behind my glass
and squawked.
Prepare, prepare. Fuck you, I said, come back tomorrow. And here he
is in this new gray and gloomy morning.
We’re back to our normal weather. Death in the air, the idea of death
settling around us like mist,
And I am thinking again in despair, in desperation, how will it happen?
Will you wake up
Some morning and find me lying stiff and cold beside you in our bed?
How atrocious!
Or will I fall asleep in the car, as I nearly did a couple of weeks ago,
and drive off the road
Into a tree? The possibilities are endless and not at all fascinating,
except that I can’t stop
Thinking about them, can’t stop envisioning that moment of hideous
violence.
Hideous and indescribable as well, because it won’t happen until it’s
over. But not for you.
For you it will go on and on, thirty years or more, since that’s the
distance between us
In our ages. The loss will be a great chasm with no bridge across it
(for we both know
Our life together, so unexpected, is entirely loving and rare). Living
on your own –
Where will you go? what will you do? And the continuing sense of
displacement
From what we’ve had in this little house, our refuge on our green or
snowbound
Hill. Life is not easy and you will be alive. Experience reduces itself to
platitudes always,
Including the one which says that I’ll be with you forever in your
memories and dreams.
-
Polonya asilli Ingiliz yazar (Józef Teodor Nalecz Konrad Korzeniowski) Joseph Conrad'inolum yildonumu (3 Agustos 1924)
"Boyle yeteneklerim olsaydi bile, hayatin normal akisinda surdurulen herhangi bir kelime kalabaligi arasinda coktan bogulup gider, kaybolurlardi. Iyi bilindigi gibi, kelimeler gercegin amansiz dusmanidir. Uzun yillardan beri lisan ogretmenligi yapiyorum. Lisan ogretmenligi, siradan bir insanin dogustan payina dusen dus, gozlem ve sezgi gucunu zamanla olduren bir meslektir. Bir lisan ogretmeni icin oyle bir zaman gelir ki; dunya, bir yigin kelimenin mekani, insan ise bir papagandan pek de ustun olmayan ve sadece konusabilen bir hayvan gibi gorunur." Batili Gozler Altinda

"If I have ever had these gifts in any sort of living form they have been smothered out of existence a long time ago under a wilderness of words.Words, as is well known, are the great foes of reality. I have been for many years a teacher of languages. It is an occupation which at length becomes fatal to whatever share of imagination, observation, and insight an ordinary person may be heir to. To a teacher of languages there comes a time when the world is but a place of many words and man appears a mere talking animal not much more wonderful than a parrot."
“Zihnimi, dusuncelerimi bos yere isgal ediyorlardi. Bana gore bu insanlar, hayat bilgilerini sinir bozucu yalan ve hileler uzerine kurulu isgalcilerdi; cunku benim bildigim seyleri onlarin bilmelerinin mumkun olmadigindan son derece emindim. Kendilerini kusursuzca emniyette hissederek gundelik yasamlarini surduren siradan insanlarin davranislarindan farksiz olan davranis ve duruslari bana gore, idrak edemedigi bir tehlikenin karsisinda olcusuzce ve abes bir bicimde gosteris yapan bir delinin davranislari kadar iticiydi. Onlari aydinlatmak gibi belli bir hirsim yoktu, fakat kendilerine verdikleri o aptalca onemi yansitan yuzlerine bakip kendimi gulmemek icin tuttugum zamanlar oluyordu. O donemde pek de iyi olmadigimi soyleyebilirim. Son derece saygideger insanlara aci aci siritarak, sokaklarda yalpalayarak dolasiyordum; halletmem gereken cesitli meseleler vardi. Davranisimin affedilmez oldugunu kabul ediyorum fakat o gunlerde atesim nadiren normal sevilerde seyrediyordu. Sevgili yengemin ‘gucumu toparlama’ cabalari tumuyle bosuna gorunuyordu. Toparlanmasi gereken fiziksel gucum degildi. Hayal gucumun yatistirilmaya ihtiyaci vardi.” Karanligin Yuregi

“No, they did not bury me, though there is a period of time which I remember mistily, with a shuddering wonder, like a passage through some inconceivable world that had no hope in it and no desire. I found myself back in the sepulchral city resenting the sight of people hurrying through the streets to filch a little money from each other, to devour their infamous cookery, to gulp their unwholesome beer, to dream their insignificant and silly dreams. They trespassed upon my thoughts. They were intruders whose knowledge of life was to me an irritating pretence, because I felt so sure they could not possibly known the things I knew. Their bearing, which was simply the bearing of commonplace individuals going about their business in the assurance of perfect safety, was offensive to me like the outrageous flaunting of folly in the face of a danger it is unable to comprehend. I had no particular desire to enlighten them, but I had some difficulty in restraining myself from laughing in their faces so full of stupid importance. I dareway I was not very well at that time. I tottered about the streets—there were various affairs to settle—grinning bitterly at perfectly respectable persons. I admit my behaviour was inexcusable, but then my temperature was seldom normal in these days. My dear aunt’s endeavours to `nurse up my strength´ seemed altogether beside the mark. It was not my strength that wanted nursing, it was my imagination that wanted soothing.”

“Kimse bana Arsimet'in kaldiracindan bahsetmesin. Arsimet, matematiksel imgeleme sahip dalgin bir adamdi. Matematige olan saygim sonsuz ama bu noktada formullere ihtiyacim yok. Bana dogru vurguyu ve dogru sozcugu verin, sizin icin dunyayi yerinden oynatayim.”
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Amerikali tarihsel kurgu yazari Leon Marcus Uris'in dogum yildonumu (3 Agustos 1924)
"Boylelikle daha dokuz yasima gelmeden, Arap yasaminin ana kuralini ogrenmis bulunuyordum. Ben agabeyime karsiydim. Agabeyimle ikimiz babama karsiydik. Ailem, kuzenlerime ve akrabalarina karsiydi. Akrabalar, kabileye karsiydi. Kabile dunyaya karsiydi. Hepimiz birlikte de kafire karsiydik."

“So before I was nine I had learned the basic canon of Arab life. It was me against my brother; me and my brother against our father; my family against my cousins and the clan; the clan against the tribe; and the tribe against the world. And all of us against the infidel."
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Fransiz sosyolog Alain Touraine’in dogum gunu (3 Agustos 1925)
“Once Avrupa, sonra da Kuzey Amerika’da olusan sanayi toplumu, kaba bir kapitalizm tarafindan ikiye bolunmus izlenimi verir: Bir yanda, cikar ve bireysellik dunyasi, ki Schopenhauer bu dunyanin, estetik olarak ayyaslarla dolu bir meyhane, entelektuel olarak bir timarhane, ahlaksal olarak da bir haydut yatagi oldugunu soyler; ote yanda da, kisiye bagli olmayan ve hesaplarla arasinda baglanti bulunmayan bir arzu dunyasi. Sahiplenici bencilligin hizmetindeki aracsal akil, artik tasarimla degil de ancak algiyla kavranabilen yasamin, bedenin ve arzunun guclerine hicbir seyle bagli degildir. Kant’in ikiciligi trajik bir hal alir. Schopenhauer, insanin, kozmik olarak yasama arzusuyla kendisini bireylesmeye surukleyen hareket arasinda parcalandigindan dolayi mutsuz oldugunu dusunur.” Modernligin Elestirisi

“La société industrielle qui se forme en Europe, puis en Amérique du Nord, apparaît coupée en deux par un capitalisme brutal : d’un côté, le monde de l’intérêt et de l’individualité, dont Schopenhauer dit qu'il est esthétiquement une taverne pleine d'ivrognes, intellectuellement un asile d’aliénés, et moralement un repaire de brigands ; de l'autre, le monde impersonnel du désir, qui ne communique pas avec celui du calcul. La raison instrumentale au service de l'égoïsme possessif n'est plus rattachée par rien aux forces de la vie, du corps et du désir, qui ne peuvent être saisies par la représentation mais seulement par l'intuition. Le dualisme kantien devient tragique. L’homme est malheureux, pense Schopenhauer, parce qu’il est déchiré entre son désir de vivre cosmiquement et le mouvement qui l’entraîne vers l'individuation.”
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Fransiz ressam Diogène Ulysse Napoléon Maillart’nin olum yildonumu (3 Agustos 1926)
Half-nude Study of a Young Man, 1864

His daughters, Eva and Jeanne, 1876
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Italyan ressam Giulio Justolin’in olum yildonumu (3 Agustos 1930)
Sant'Agostino, 1900

Donne al lavatoio sul fiume Terzo, 1920 c.
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