Yahia Lababidi
Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ Author
Born
Cairo, Egypt
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Influences
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May 2012
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Thank you, Razan, for taking the time to read my book and to leave a review. Peace, Yahia
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Yahia Lababidi
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“Knock, And He'll open the door
Vanish, And He'll make you shine like the sun Fall, And He'll raise you to the heavens Become nothing, And He'll turn you into everything.� ...more Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi |
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“Suffering is a gift. In it is hidden mercy.�
Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi |
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Yahia Lababidi
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Quarantine Notes: Aphorisms on Morality and Mortality
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Thank you, Ruben, for this kind review. It's gratifying to know that my intimate reflections resonated with you, personally, and that you think they a
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“Like cars in amusement parks, our direction is often determined through collisions. ”
― Signposts to Elsewhere
― Signposts to Elsewhere
“We ought to view ourselves with the same curiosity and openness with which we study a tree, the sky or a thought, because we too are linked to the entire universe.”
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“The purpose of poetry is to remind us
how difficult it is to remain just one person,
for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors,
and invisible guests come in and out at will.”
―
how difficult it is to remain just one person,
for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors,
and invisible guests come in and out at will.”
―
“The sea had jeeringly kept his finite body up, but drowned the infinite of his soul. Not drowned entirely, though. Rather carried down alive to wondrous depths, where strange shapes of the unwarped primal world glided to and fro before his passive eyes; and the miser-merman, Wisdom, revealed his hoarded heaps; and among the joyous, heartless, ever-juvenile eternities, Pip saw the multitudinous, God-omnipresent, coral insects, that out of the firmament of waters heaved the colossal orbs. He saw God’s foot upon the treadle of the loom, and spoke it; and therefore his shipmates called him mad. So man’s insanity is heaven’s sense; and wandering from all mortal reason, man comes at last to that celestial thought, which, to reason, is absurd and frantic; and weal or woe, feels then uncompromised, indifferent as his God.”
― Moby-Dick or, The Whale
― Moby-Dick or, The Whale
"The Artist as Mystic"