Nikos Kazantzakis (from the novel “The Life and Times of Alexis Zorba”), Michael “Zorba The Greek” Anthony Quinn / 20th Century Fox Lila Kedrova in. La esencia de nuestro dios es el combate. Estas palabras que el propio Kazantzakis ha escrito en otra occasion definen cabalmente la figura de Alexis Zorba. NIKOS KAZANTZAKIS ZORBA THE GREEK ‘Throughout my life my greatest They smelled of vomit and eau-de-Cologne, and their eyes were cloudy, terrified ‘You must forgive me, boss,’ he said, ‘but I’m like my grandfather Alexis – God .

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I prepared excitedly for my departure, as if this journey had a mysterious significance. So I lit my pipe and pronounced the kind word. The seamen were now clinking their glasses and bursting with laughter.

Vios ke Politia tou Alexi Zorba –

If God lets dogs enter his paradise, let him open his gate to Retsep Effendi. You’ve got to be in the mood to work. Greenish-yellow, screwed-up faces began to emerge from the cabins. She lit a cigarette, and from her little French retrousse nose began to issue wreaths of smoke.

Every evening I wait for him after work, I make him kazantzakie opposite me and we eat.

Inhe became the leader of a small party on the non-communist left, and entered the Greek government as Minister without Portfolio. The spiritual odyssey of Nikos Kazantzakis: D’you see, boss, that’s what liberty is!

Buchklub Ex Libris Finally zorbz moved his lips. Round our ship, the indigo-blue sea was still seething restlessly. He was Mavrandoni, the village elder who had rented the lignite mine to us.

Vios ke Politia tou Alexi Zorba

Zorba leapt up, went for his santuri, sat on the ground Turkish fashion, undraped his instrument, rested it on his lap and stretched his great hands. She spoke Greek after a fashion, murdering the words and mixing up the syllables. My moustache and my hair were their real colour, black as a raven.


Maybe she doesn’t want you at all, maybe you disgust her, maybe she says no. Kazantzakis married Galatea Alexiou in ; they divorced in Later, inhe wrote a one-act play titled Comedywhich was filled with existential themes, predating the post-World War II existentialist movement in Europe spearheaded by writers like Jean-Paul Sartre and Camus.

You’re going to drink a rum, too, so that our agreement holds good.

Nikos Kazantzakis

The fish, dazed by the blows of the raging waters, had taken refuge in the depths, where they were waiting till calm was restored above. You drink the red juice and, lo and behold, your soul grows big, too big for the old carcass, it challenges God to a fight. A woman has nothing else in view. They were our last words. The old cock was crowing in Dame Hortense’s yard. For a long time we did not utter a word. That is why, every evening, lying on the pebbles, I impatiently waited for Zorba. After that, you can’t get rid of it.

Whatever they do, you’ll find excuses for them. I turned over the pages, reading a line here and there, or a tercet, and committing to memory the entire canto. Otto Erich Kleine She had eaten and drunk too much, she sat back in a sweat. Widely considered a giant of modern Greek literaturehe was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature in nine different years. They were little, round eyes with very dark pupils and red veinlets on the whites.


Only death is not. The cafe reeked of brewing sage and human beings whose breath steamed the windows because of the cold outside. I looked at his hands, which could handle the pick and the santuri.

I crouched among the rocks, perched like a seagull on a ledge, and contemplated the sea. I wandered from the highest to the lowest regions of the terrible house of destiny; I went freely about hell, purgatory and paradise, as kaazntzakis in my own dwelling.

Zorba followed her, devouring her with his eyes. This article needs additional citations for verification. It was a big and precious one, ‘Made in England’. Good night – my lodgings!

Then they began to stink, so the stench was followed and they were found rotting beneath this fig tree, locked in each other’s arms. I became ashamed of my delicate hands, my pale face and my life which had not been bespattered with mud and blood. The sentinels relax and a kind word is as powerful as gold or love.

To have the stars above, the land to your left and the sea to your right and to realize of a sudden that in your heart, life has accomplished its final miracle: The poor benighted innocent, that’s never an obstacle! Certainly, to him telegraphy, steam-ships and engines, current morality and religion must have appeared like rusty old rifles. I looked through the steamy windows at the awakening port resounding with the ships’ sirens and the cries of carters and boatmen.

Like everyone else before me, I fell headlong into the ditch.