We are excited to share photographs every Tuesday from our recent or long-ago travels, or just everyday stuff that appealed to our mindful eye and sharp sensibilities as captured through fleeting images.
East Berlin Wall Art (Part One)
I am doing a series of posts on Berlin as I will be traveling there in a few days’ time with my family. These photographs were actually taken sometime in 2011. Technically, this is not really part one as I did share a few pictures from the East Side Gallery sometime in 2012. At the time, I only managed to post several. I remembered being amazed by the gritty atmosphere of Berlin that seemed barely tamed, the wildness almost rising to the surface.
“If you have everything, then you don’t want to go on. It’s the lacking that makes you search for something better.”
― Juliette Binoche
“Dreams, if they’re any good, are always a little bit crazy. ”
― Ray Charles
“He was a commander in the Russian army at a time when the Russians were our enemies and still part of the Soviet Union . This wasn’t very long ago, Alex.The collapse of communism. It was only in 1989 that the Berlin Wall came down.” She stopped. “I suppose none of this means very much to you.”
“Well, it wouldn’t,” Alex said. “I was only two years old.”
― Anthony Horowitz,
“Germans grew reluctant to stay in communal ski lodges, fearing they might talk in their sleep. They postponed surgeries because of the lip-loosening effects of anesthetic. Dreams reflected the ambient anxiety. One German dreamed that an SA man came to his home and opened the door to his oven, which then repeated every negative remark the household had made against the government.”
― Erik Larson,
“The whole world had changed. Only the fairy tales remained the same.”
― Lois Lowry,
“Lovely morning, World War Two.”
― Thomas Pynchon,
“The buildings appear to be glued together, mostly small houses and apartment blocks that looked nervous. There is murky snow spread out like carpet. There is concrete, empty hat-stand trees, and gray air.”
― Markus Zusak
“He threw his burning cigarette onto our clean living room floor and ground it into the wood with his boot.
We were about to become cigarettes.”
― Ruta Sepetys,
“I…” He struggled to answer. “When everything was quiet, I went up to the corridor and the curtain in the living room was open just a crack… I could see outside. I watched, only for a few seconds.” He had not seen the outside world for twenty-two months.
There was no anger or reproach.
It was Papa who spoke.
How did it look?”
Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. “There were stars,” he said. “They burned my eyes.”
― Markus Zusak,