Is it wrong, wanting to be at home with your record collection? It’s not like collecting records is like collecting stamps, or beermats, or antique thimbles. There’s a whole world in here, a nicer, dirtier, more violent, more peaceful, more colorful, sleazier, more dangerous, more loving world than the world I live in; there is history, and geography, and poetry, and countless other things I should have studied at school, including music.
Nick Hornby – High fidelity
As I lay down with my lady
The sounds of the night keep me warm
I’m living a city life – I’m living maybe
But tonight there’s no reason to be strong
Romantic poets guard the darkness
My my all at such an early age
An old man sheds a tear
He opens a little gold locket
He thought his little girl was lost in an Indian raid
Somewhere in these night lights lies the answer
And you can get diamonds by the yard
A tiffany dream – A porcelain dancer
An old man playing blues guitar
(Chorus:)
Midnight I surrender
I live beneath your ancient spell
You’ve been my lover since I can’t remember
You save my life with the stories you tell
Voy a hacer un primer análisis de una de mis encuestas del mes. Así, porque me da la gana y eso.
Stephen Hendry 50% -> 6 votos
Ronnie O’Sullivan 41,67% -> 5 votos
Mark James Williams 8,33% -> 1 voto
Steve Davis 0% -> 0 votos
John Higgins 0% -> 0 votos
¿Y qué quiere decir todo esto? Que al final ha habido algo de criterio en mis lectores/as y han acabado votando al mejor jugador de snooker de la historia. 36 títulos de ránking, incluyendo siete Campeonatos del Mundo, lo demuestran. Por no hablar de su dominio del juego durante toda la década de los ’90.
Y, como no podía ser de otra forma ya que esta entrada está para esto, aquí le tenemos en acción, en el mejor momento de toda su carrera.
Para saber más de Stephen Hendry, visita su perfil en Snooker147blog pichando aquí.
That’s the thing with the young these days, isn’t it? They watch too many happy endings. Everything has to be wrapped up, with a smile and a tear and a wave. Everyone has learned, found love, seen the error of their ways, discovered the joys of monogamy, or fatherhood, or filial duty, or life itself. In my day, people got shot at the end of films, after learning only that life is hollow, dismal, brutish, and short.
Nick Hornby – A long way down
It seems to me that if you place music (and books, probably, and films, and plays, and anything that makes you feel) at the centre of your being, then you can’t afford to sort out your love life, start to think of it as a finished product. You’ve got to pick at it, keep it, alive and in turmoil, you’ve got to pick at it and unravel it until it all comes apart and you’re compelled to start all over again. Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as a consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.
Nick Hornby – High Fidelity
Qué me contais por aquí