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  <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats</id>
  <title>citats</title>
  <subtitle>citats</subtitle>
  <tagline>citats</tagline>
  <author>
    <email>indikators@inbox.lv</email>
    <name>citats</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2012-12-15T12:12:30Z</updated>
  <modified>2012-12-15T12:12:30Z</modified>
  <link rel="service.feed" type="application/x.atom+xml" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/data/atom" title="citats"/>
  <entry>
    <title>ROBERT MUSIL  The man without qualities V</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:9176</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/9176.html"/>
    <published>2012-12-15T12:11:00</published>
    <issued>2012-12-15T12:11:00</issued>
    <updated>2012-12-15T12:12:30Z</updated>
    <modified>2012-12-15T12:12:30Z</modified>
    <content type="html">&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;When you spend a lot of time with ideas you end up itching all over, and you can scratch till you bleed, without getting any relief.&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>ROBERT MUSIL  The man without qualities IV</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:8798</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/8798.html"/>
    <published>2012-12-15T12:05:00</published>
    <issued>2012-12-15T12:05:00</issued>
    <updated>2012-12-15T12:10:32Z</updated>
    <modified>2012-12-15T12:10:32Z</modified>
    <content type="html">&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ulrich, who found such displays of naked emotion distasteful, remembered at this point that most people or, bluntly speaking, the average sort, whose minds are stimulated without their being able to create, long to act out their own selves. These are of course the same people who are so likely to find, going on inside them, something &amp;quot;unutterable&amp;quot; - truly a word that says it all for them and that is the clouded screen upon which whatever they say appears vaguely magnified, so that they can never tell its real value. &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Ž.ŽENĒ Kerels no Brestas</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:6589</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/6589.html"/>
    <published>2009-09-12T02:01:00</published>
    <issued>2009-09-12T02:01:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T23:04:54Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T23:04:54Z</modified>
    <category term="ženē"/>
    <content type="html">Gluži prētēji, šķita, šie vārdi viņa mutē iekļūst no ārpuses, sakrājas un nogulsnējas tur, veidojot biezus dubļus, no kuriem lāgiem paceļas kāds caurspīdīgs burbulis un viegli pārsprāgst uz viņa lūpām; tas bija žargonvārds.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>CHARLES BUKOWSKI Letter 4-25-87</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:6169</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/6169.html"/>
    <published>2009-09-01T22:28:00</published>
    <issued>2009-09-01T22:28:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T22:00:23Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T22:00:23Z</modified>
    <category term="bukowski"/>
    <content type="html">My theory is that if you mix enough people together you don&amp;apos;t get soup or salad, you just get shit.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Charles Bukowski,  Letter 8-20-70</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:6055</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/6055.html"/>
    <published>2009-09-01T22:14:00</published>
    <issued>2009-09-01T22:14:00</issued>
    <updated>2012-04-11T08:53:20Z</updated>
    <modified>2012-04-11T08:53:20Z</modified>
    <category term="bukowski"/>
    <content type="html">only problem with Venice is there are a lot of freaky hippy-yippy types. I don&amp;apos;t mind a real hippie who slams from town to town, getting jobs picking fruit or whatever the hell. we used to call them bums in my day. I was a bum. still am. got nothing against bums. but most of the Venice hippie types are of the plastic variety, paying rent and with incomes from somewhere and wandering around.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>E.M.Forster</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:5351</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/5351.html"/>
    <published>2009-05-08T16:58:00</published>
    <issued>2009-05-08T16:58:00</issued>
    <updated>2012-04-11T08:53:46Z</updated>
    <modified>2012-04-11T08:53:46Z</modified>
    <content type="html">&amp;quot;How can I tell what I think until I see what I say?&amp;quot;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;E.M.Forster</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>ILMARS LĀBANS Gaļas pulkstenis</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:4697</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/4697.html"/>
    <published>2009-02-21T13:11:00</published>
    <issued>2009-02-21T13:11:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T22:01:18Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T22:01:18Z</modified>
    <category term="lābans"/>
    <content type="html">Maksam Ernstam&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Pie miesnieka stāv cilvēki &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;viņi steidzas jo pusdienas tuvojas&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;tukšām acīm apkārt skatās&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;skatās blakus augšup un lejup&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;bet neredz&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;gaļas pulksteni&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Gaļas pulkstenim rādītāji ir mežs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;no kura zariem lūr tumši putni&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;mežs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;pilns saules lāsmojošām limfām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;un balsīm&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;bezmiesiskām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;nezinkurskanošām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Nesadzirdamām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;jo zobratos šalko asinis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Gaļas pulkstenis &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;karājas pie durvīm&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;garās sarkanās siksnās&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;es nevaru&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;es nevaru aizvērt durvis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;es nevaru aizvērt&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Blakus istabā uz galda tikšķ gaļa&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;(atdz. Guntars Godiņš)</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>JURIS BOIKO Māja Bolderājā</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:4452</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/4452.html"/>
    <published>2009-01-10T14:21:00</published>
    <issued>2009-01-10T14:21:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T23:07:46Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T23:07:46Z</modified>
    <category term="boiko"/>
    <content type="html">Uz Bolderāju eju es&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Uz svešo Bolderāju&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Uz Bolderāju eju es&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tur būvēt gribu māju&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tur tādu māju gribu es&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Bez durvīm un bez sienām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Pats būvēšu to māju es&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar puņķiem un ar slienām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tā māja būs no putekļiem&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;No pelniem un no rūsas&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tā māja būs no caurumiem&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;No melnumiem un no tumsas&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Sev tādu māju gribu es&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Lai neredz manu māju&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tur pārdošu es biļetes&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Uz citu Bolderāju</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>WALT WHITMAN Whoever you are holding me now in hand</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:4145</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/4145.html"/>
    <published>2008-10-13T19:21:00</published>
    <issued>2008-10-13T19:21:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T23:08:43Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T23:08:43Z</modified>
    <category term="whitman"/>
    <content type="html">Whoever you are holding me now in hand, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Without one thing all will be useless, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;I give you fair warning before you attempt me further, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;I am not what you supposed, but far different. &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Who is he that would become my follower? &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections? &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;The way is suspicious, the result uncertain, perhaps destructive, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;You would have to give up all else, I alone would expect to be your sole and exclusive standard, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;The whole past theory of your life and all conformity to the lives around you would have to be abandon’d, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Therefore release me now before troubling yourself any further, let go your hand from my shoulders, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Put me down and depart on your way. &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Or else by stealth in some wood for trial, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Or back of a rock in the open air, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;(For in any roof’d room of a house I emerge not, nor in company, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;And in libraries I lie as one dumb, a gawk, or unborn, or dead,) &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;But just possibly with you on a high hill, first watching lest any person for miles around approach unawares, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Or possibly with you sailing at sea, or on the beach of the sea or some quiet island, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Here to put your lips upon mine I permit you, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;With the comrade’s long-dwelling kiss or the new husband’s kiss, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;For I am the new husband and I am the comrade. &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Or if you will, thrusting me beneath your clothing, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Where I may feel the throbs of your heart or rest upon your hip, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Carry me when you go forth over land or sea; &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;For thus merely touching you is enough, is best, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;And thus touching you would I silently sleep and be carried eternally. &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;But these leaves conning you con at peril, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;For these leaves and me you will not understand, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;They will elude you at first and still more afterward, I will certainly elude you, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Even while you should think you had unquestionably caught me, behold! &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Already you see I have escaped from you. &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;For it is not for what I have put into it that I have written this book, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Nor is it by reading it you will acquire it, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Nor do those know me best who admire me and vauntingly praise me, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Nor will the candidates for my love (unless at most a very few) prove victorious, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Nor will my poems do good only, they will do just as much evil, perhaps more, &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;For all is useless without that which you may guess at many times and not hit, that which I hinted at; &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Therefore release me and depart on your way.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>ŽAKS PREVĒRS Manā mājā</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:3616</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/3616.html"/>
    <published>2008-09-11T14:53:00</published>
    <issued>2008-09-11T14:53:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T23:10:24Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T23:10:24Z</modified>
    <category term="prevērs"/>
    <content type="html">Uz manu māju jūs atnāksiet&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Starp citu šī māja nav manējā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Es nezinu kam tā ir &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Es še ierados kādu dienu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tajā nebija neviena&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tikai sarkani pipari sakārti pie baltajām sienām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Es ilgi dzīvoju še&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un neviens mani nemeklēja&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Bet katru dienu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Es gaidīju jūs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Es nekā nelasīju&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Nekā nopietna nerunāju&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tikai šad tad no rītiem&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Rēcu kā zvērs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Auroju kā ēzelis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;No visa spēka&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un tas man bija tīkami&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un pēc tam es rotaļājos&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ļoti gudras ir šīs kājas&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tās jūs aizved ļoti tālu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ja jūs vēlaties tālu iet&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un ja jūs nevēlaties nekur iet&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tās paliek jūsu sabiedrībā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un ja spēlē mūzika tās dejo&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Bez kājām dejot nav iespējams&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Jābūt muļķīgam kā cilvēkam un tas notiek bieži&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Lai runātu muļķības&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kas ir muļķīgs kā viņa kājas un jautrs kā žubīte&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Žubīte nav jautra&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tā ir jautra tikai tad kad ir jautra&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un bēdīga tad kad ir bēdīga vai arī ne jautra ne bēdīga&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un viņa zin ka ir žubīte &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Starp citu viņa nesauc sevi tā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tas ir cilvēks kas viņu nosaucis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Žubīte žubīte žubīte žubīte&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Cik interesanti ir uzvārdi&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Martins Igo Viktors ar savu vārdu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Bonaparts Napoleons ar savu vārdu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kāpēc ir tā un ne citādi&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Bonapartistu pulki iet pa tuksnesi&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Vadoņa vārds ir Dromadērs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Viņam ir zirgs lāde ar atvilktnēm&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;No tāles auļo cilvēks kuram nav nekā tikai trīs vārdi&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Viņu sauc Tim-Tam-Tom un uzvārds nav dižs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un mazliet tālāk vēl ir nezin kas &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un pavisam tālu arī ir vēl nezin kāds&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un pie tam ja ir kaut kas var darīt visu ko&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Manā mājā tu ienāksi &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Es domāju citādi bet es domāju tikai tā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un kad tu būsi manā mājā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Tu nometīsi visas drēbes&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un tu paliksi nekustīgi kaila stāvot ar savu sarkano muti&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kā sarkani pipari kas pakārti uz baltas sienas&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un tad tu nogulsies un es blakus tev būšu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Jā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Manā mājā kas nav manējā tevi sagaidīšu</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>  Виктор Пелевин  &amp;quot;Желтая стрела&amp;quot;</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:2573</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/2573.html"/>
    <published>2008-08-26T10:23:00</published>
    <issued>2008-08-26T10:23:00</issued>
    <updated>2012-04-11T08:52:40Z</updated>
    <modified>2012-04-11T08:52:40Z</modified>
    <content type="html">Не замечали ли вы, дорогой читатель, что когда долго глядишь на мир и забываешь о себе, остается только то, что видишь: невысокий склон в густых зарослях конопли (которую, стоит поезду замедлить ход, рвут специальными палками из соседних окон), оплетенная лианами цепь пальм, отделяющая железную дорогу от остального мира, изредка река или мост в колониальном стиле или защищенная стальной рукой шлагбаума пустая дорога. Куда в это время деваюсь я? И куда деваются эти деревья и шлагбаумы в то время, когда на них никто не смотрит?&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;    Да какая мне разница. Важно ведь совсем другое. Ближе всего к счастью — хоть я и не берусь определить, что это такое — я бываю тогда, когда отворачиваюсь от окна и краем сознания — потому что иначе это невозможно — замечаю, что только что меня опять не было, а был просто мир за окном, и что-то прекрасное и непостижимое, да и абсолютно не нуждающееся ни в каком «постижении», несколько секунд существовало вместо обычного роя мыслей, одна из которых подобно локомотиву тянет за собой все остальные, обволакивает их и называет себя словом «я». Опять слышен трубный клич далекого слона, вероятно белого, — счастлив ли…»</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>Виктор Пелевин &amp;quot; Желтая стрела&amp;quot;</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:2344</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/2344.html"/>
    <published>2008-08-26T10:17:00</published>
    <issued>2008-08-26T10:17:00</issued>
    <updated>2012-04-11T08:52:21Z</updated>
    <modified>2012-04-11T08:52:21Z</modified>
    <content type="html">Горячий солнечный свет падал на скатерть, покрытую липкими пятнами и крошками, и Андрей вдруг подумал, что для миллионов лучей это настоящая трагедия — начать свой путь на поверхности солнца, пронестись сквозь бесконечную пустоту космоса, пробить многокилометровое небо — и все только для того, чтобы угаснуть на отвратительных останках вчерашнего супа. А ведь вполне могло быть, что эти косо падающие из окна желтые стрелы обладали сознанием, надеждой на лучшее и пониманием беспочвенности этой надежды — то есть, как и человек, имели в своем распоряжении все необходимые для страдания ингредиенты.&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;«Может быть, я и сам кажусь кому-то такой же точно желтой стрелой, упавшей на скатерть. А жизнь — это просто грязное стекло, сквозь которое я лечу. И вот я падаю, падаю, уже черт знает сколько лет падаю на стол перед тарелкой, а кто-то глядит в меню и ждет завтрака…»</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>ANDRĒ BRETONS Mana sieviete ar ugunskura matiem</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:2141</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/2141.html"/>
    <published>2008-08-15T11:09:00</published>
    <issued>2008-08-15T11:09:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T22:05:42Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T22:05:42Z</modified>
    <category term="bretons"/>
    <content type="html">Mana sieviete ar ugunskura matiem&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar svelmes zibeņu domām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras augums ir smilšu pulkstenis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras augums ir ūdrs tīģera zobos&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras mute ir kokarde un zvaigžņu pušķis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras zobi ir baltu peļu pēdas uz baltas zemes&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Bet mēle dzintars un stikla drumslas&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;mana sieviete ar nodurta upurjēra mēli&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar mēli kā lellei kas atver un aizver acis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar neredzēta akmens mēli&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras skropstas ir bērna rokas vilkti ķeburi &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Bet uzacis bezdelīgas ligzdas mala&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras deniņi ir siltumnīcas jumta kārniņi&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un stiklu svīdums&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras pleci ir šampanietis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un strūklaka ar delfīnu galvām zem ledus&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar sērkociņu delma locītavām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras pirksti ir nejauši uzmests sirds dūzis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras pirksti ir nopļauts siens&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar caunas un smilšu lapsas padusēm&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar Jāņu nakts padusēm&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar jasmīnkrūma padusēm kur ligzdo stagars&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar slūžu un jūras putu rokām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar rokām kas ir vienlaikus dzirnavas un labība&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar raķetes kājām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ar izmisuma un pulksteņlabotāja kustībām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras pēdas ir pati plūškoka serde&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras pēdas ir vārdu sākuma burti&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras pēdas ir atslēgu saišķis kuras pēdas ir kuģu drīvētāji kas dzer&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar grūbu kaklu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras krūšu dobīte ir Zelta Ieleja&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Ir satikšanās kalnu strauta gultnē&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Pašā nakts dziļumā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar jūras kurmju rakumu krūtīm&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras krūtis ir rubīna tīģelis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras krūtis ir rozes staru spektrs rasā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras vēders ir atvērts dienu vēdeklis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras vēders ir milzu spiedogs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras mugura ir putns kas stāvus uzspurdz gaisā&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras mugura ir dzīvsudrabs&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras mugura ir gaisma&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras pakausis ir gluds akmens un mitrs krīts&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un nupat izdzertas glāzes kritiens&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar gondolas gūžām&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kurai gūžas ir bultas greznojums un spožums&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un balta pāva spalvu stiegras&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un nejūtīgi svari &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar azbesta un smilšakmens dibenu&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras dibens ir gulbja mugura&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Un pavasaris&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete ar gladiolas klēpi&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras klēpis ir zelta dzīsla un pīļknābis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras klēpis ir aļģe un vecas konfektes&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras klēpis ir spogulis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras acis pilnas asaru &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras acis ir mēļi vairogi un adatas ar magnēta spēku&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras acis ir savanna &amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras acis ir ūdens ko cietumā padzerties&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Mana sieviete kuras acis ir mežs kam mūžam draud cirvis&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Kuras acis ir ūdens līmenis gaisa zemes un uguns līmenis</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>J.V. CUNNINGHAM These fools obsessed with being unobsessed // from 8. Epigrams: A Journal</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:1213</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/1213.html"/>
    <published>2008-08-06T17:41:00</published>
    <issued>2008-08-06T17:41:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T23:14:39Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T23:14:39Z</modified>
    <category term="cunningham"/>
    <content type="html">If wisdom, as it seems it is,&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Be the recovery of some bliss&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;From the conditions of disaster—&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Terror the servant, man the master—&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;It does not follow we should seek&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Crises to prove ourselves unweak.&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Much of our lives, God knows, is error,&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;But who will trifle with unrest?&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;These fools who would solicit terror,&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Obsessed with being unobsessed;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Professionals of experience&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Who have disasters to withstand them&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;As if fear never had unmanned them,&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;Flaunt a presumptuous innocence.&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;I have preferred indifference.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>J.V.CUNNINGHAM from 1. Doctor Drink</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:805</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/805.html"/>
    <published>2008-08-06T17:32:00</published>
    <issued>2008-08-06T17:32:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T22:09:26Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T22:09:26Z</modified>
    <category term="cunningham"/>
    <content type="html">In the thirtieth year of life&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;I took my heart to be my wife,&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;And as I turn in bed by night&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;I have my heart for my delight.&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;No other heart may mine estrange&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;For my heart changes as I change,&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;And it is bound, and I am free,&amp;lt;br /&amp;gt;And with my death it dies with me.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>VILJAMS FOLKNERS Sartoriss</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:588</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/588.html"/>
    <published>2008-07-25T10:58:00</published>
    <issued>2008-07-25T10:58:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T22:12:30Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T22:12:30Z</modified>
    <category term="folkners"/>
    <content type="html">Bejarda galva bija auksta un skaidra, iedzertais viskijs pilnīgi izgaisis. Vai, pareizāk sakot, viņa galva it kā piederēja kādam citam Bejardam, kurš gulēja svešā gultā un kura alkohola notrulinātie nervi kā ledaini diegi stiepās cauri šim ķermenim, ko viņam mūždien jāvelk sev līdzi pa šo drūmo un garlaicīgo pasauli.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <title>VILJAMS FOLKNERS Sartoriss</title>
    <id>urn:lj:klab.lv:atom1:citats:477</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://klab.lv/users/citats/477.html"/>
    <published>2008-07-25T10:15:00</published>
    <issued>2008-07-25T10:15:00</issued>
    <updated>2009-09-11T23:16:45Z</updated>
    <modified>2009-09-11T23:16:45Z</modified>
    <category term="folkners"/>
    <content type="html">Kasieris, sagumis un izplūdis, sēdēja uz taburetes, un viņa blāķīgā auguma dziļumos urdzēja smiekli.</content>
  </entry>
</feed>
