Mervyn Peake Citas

• Each day I live in a glass room unless I break it with the thrusting of my senses and pass through the splintered walls to the great landscape.

  Mervyn Peake

  Wall, Glasses, Great Day

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• This tower, patched unevenly with black ivy, arose like a mutilated finger from among the fists of knuckled masonry and pointed blasphemously at heaven. At night the owls made of it an echoing throat; by day it stood voiceless and cast its long shadow.

  Mervyn Peake

  Night, Ivy, Long

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.12, The Overlook Press

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• To live at all is miracle enough.

  Mervyn Peake

  Inspirational, Miracle, Religion

  Mervyn Peake (2012). “Collected Poems”, p.307, Carcanet

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• There are times when the air that floats between mortals becomes, in its stillness and silence, as cruel as the edge of a scythe.

  Mervyn Peake

  Air, Silence, Scythes

  Mervyn Peake (2008). “Titus Alone”, p.110, The Overlook Press

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• As I see it, life is an effort to grip before they slip through one's fingers and slide into oblivion, the startling, the ghastly or the blindingly exquisite fish of the imagination before they whip away on the endless current and are lost for ever in oblivion's black ocean.

  Mervyn Peake

  Ocean, Imagination, Effort

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• The sun sank with a sob and darkness waded in from all horizons so that the sky contracted and there was no more light left in the world, when, at this very moment of annihilation, the moon, as though she had been waiting for her cue, sailed up the night.

  Mervyn Peake

  Moon, Night, Light

  Mervyn Peake (2008). “Titus Alone”, p.17, The Overlook Press

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• He saw in happiness the seeds of independence, and in independence the seeds of revolt.

  Mervyn Peake

  Independence, Saws, Revolt

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.21, The Overlook Press

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• There is a brotherhood among the kindly- Closer and defter and more integral- Than any of aisle or coven- For love rang out before the chapel bell

  Mervyn Peake

  Kindness, Brotherhood, Bells

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• Lingering is so very lonely when one lingers all alone.

  Mervyn Peake

  Lonely, All Alone, Lingering

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.118, The Overlook Press

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• Monta y vete. El mundo te espera.

  Mervyn Peake

  Mundo

  Mervyn Peake (1995). “The Gormenghast Novels”, Overlook Books

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• We are all imprisoned by the dictionary. We choose out of that vast, paper-walled prison our convicts, the little black printed words, when in truth we need fresh sounds to utter, new enfranchised noises which would produce a new effect.

  Mervyn Peake

  Printed Word, Black, Sound

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.230, The Overlook Press

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• I want a lot to eat, I'm going to think today.

  Mervyn Peake

  Thinking, Want, Today

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.62, The Overlook Press

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• In the presence of real tragedy you feel neither pain nor joy nor hatred, only a sense of enormous space and time suspended, the great doors open to black eternity, the rising across the terrible field of that last enormous, unanswerable question.

  Mervyn Peake

  Pain, Real, Doors

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• Yet not with all of me am I in love. Too much of my own quietness is with me.

  Mervyn Peake

  Too Much, My Own, Quietness

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.160, The Overlook Press

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• Porque la muerte es vida. Es sólo vivir lo que no tiene vida.

  Mervyn Peake

  Sin vida

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Gormenghast”, p.72, The Overlook Press

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• I am the wilderness lost in man.

  Mervyn Peake

  Men, Wilderness, Lost

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• El desmoronado castillo, que se alzaba entre las brumas, exhalaba la estación, y cada fría piedra la exhalaba. Los árboles torturados junto al oscuro lago ardían y goteaban, sus hojas arrebatadas por el viento giraban en círculos salvajes a través de las torres. Las nubes se marchitaban enroscadas o se movían inquietas sobre el cielo de piedra, levantando coronas que se deslizaban por las torrecillas y trepaban por los muros ocultos.

  Mervyn Peake

  Wall, Dark, Lakes

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.161, The Overlook Press

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• Life is too fleet for onomatopoeia.

  Mervyn Peake

  Life Is, Gormenghast

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.230, The Overlook Press

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• His was not the hatred that arises suddenly like a storm and as suddenly abates. It was, once the initial shock of anger and pain was over, a calculated thing that grew in a bloodless way.

  Mervyn Peake

  Pain, Hatred, Storm

  Mervyn Peake (1995). “The Gormenghast Novels”, Overlook Books

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• La luna se deslizaba inexorablemente hacia su cenit, las sombras se arrugaban a los pies de todos los que las proyectaban, y a medida que Rantel se acercaba a la hondonada en el dobladillo de los Bosques Retorcidos pisaba un charco de su propia medianoche.

  Mervyn Peake

  Moon, Feet, Shadow

  Mervyn Peake (1995). “The Gormenghast Novels”, Overlook Books

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• Seeing an Earl as an owl on a mantelpiece, and having part of one's face removed by a cat, both on the same morning, can temporarily undermine the self-control of any man.

  Mervyn Peake

  Morning, Cat, Men

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.309, The Overlook Press

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• Why break the heart that never beat from love?

  Mervyn Peake

  Heart, Break, Beats

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.348, The Overlook Press

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• There is a kind of laughter that sickens the soul. Laughter when it is out of control: when it screams and stamps its feet, and sets the bells jangling in the next town. Laughter in all its ignorance and cruelty. Laughter with the seed of Satan in it. It tramples upon shrines; the belly-roarer. It roars, it yells, it is delirious: and yet it is as cold as ice. It has no humor. It is naked noise and naked malice.

  Mervyn Peake

  Laughter, Ignorance, Ice

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• Innumerables velas goteaban cera caliente, y sus llamas, como banderitas, ondeaban en las corrientes de aire inexploradas. Miles de lámparas, desnudas o encerradas tras cristales de colores, ardían con sus resplandores de púrpura, ámbar, verde hierba, azul, rojo sangre e incluso gris. Las paredes de Gormenghast eran como las paredes del paraíso o como las paredes de un infierno. Los colores eran diabólicos o angelicales según el color de la mente que los observaba. Nadaban, aquellas paredes, con los matices del infierno, con los tintes de Sión. Los pechos de los serafines emplumados; las escamas de Satanás.

  Mervyn Peake

  Wall, Purple, Glasses

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Gormenghast”, p.226, The Overlook Press

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• What is Time... That you speak of it so subserviently? Are we to be the slaves of the sun, that second-hand, overrated knob of gilt, or of his sister, that fatuous circle of silver paper? A curse upon their ridiculous dictatorship!

  Mervyn Peake

  Time, Hands, Circles

  Mervyn Peake (2007). “Titus Groan”, p.239, The Overlook Press

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