“Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?”
“Everything in the world began with a yes. One molecule said yes to another molecule and life was born.”
“So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.”
“I only achieve simplicity with enormous effort”
“Things were somehow so good that they were in danger of becoming very bad because what is fully mature is very close to rotting”
“She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed”
“Ela acreditava em anjo e, porque acreditava, eles existiam" | "She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed”
“No it is not easy to write. It is as hard as breaking rocks. Sparks and splinters fly like shattered steel.”
“I ask myself: is every story that has ever been written in this world, a story of suffering and affliction?
”
“But don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.”
“All the world began with a yes. One molecule said yes to another molecule and life was born. But before prehistory there was the prehistory of the prehistory and there was the never and there was the yes. It was ever so. I don’t know why, but I do know that the universe never began.
Make no mistake, I only achieve simplicity with enormous effort.”
“For one has the right to shout.
So, I am shouting.”
“Who hasn't asked himself, am I a monster or is this what it means to be human?”
“To eat communion bread will be to taste the world's indifference, and to immerse myself in nothingness.”
“For at the hour of death you became a celebrated film star, it is a moment of glory for everyone, when the choral music scales the top notes.”
“And even sadness was also something for rich people, for people who could afford it, for people who didn’t have anything better to do. Sadness was a luxury.”
“Meanwhile, the clouds are white and the sky is blue. Why is there so much God? At the expense of men.”
“I cannot stand repetition: routine divides me from potential novelties within my reach.”
“She wasn’t crying because of the life she led: because, never having led any other, she’d accepted that with her that was just the way things were. But I also think she was crying because, through the music, she might have guessed there were other ways of feeling,”
“Why don’t clouds fall, since everything else does? Because gravity is less than the strength of the air that keeps them up there. Clever, right? Yes, but one day they fall as rain. That is my revenge.”
“Escribo porque no tengo nada que hacer en el mundo: estoy de sobra y no hay lugar para mí en la tierra de los hombres. Escribo por mi desesperación y mi cansancio, ya no soporto la rutina de ser yo, y si no existiese la novedad continua que es escribir, me moriría simbólicamente todos los días. Pero estoy preparado para salir con discreción por la puerta trasera. He experimentado casi todo, aun la pasión y su desesperanza. Ahora sólo querría tener lo que hubiera sido y no fui”
“First of all, I must make it clear that this girl does not know herself apart from the fact that she goes on living aimlessly. Were she foolish enough to ask herself 'Who am I?', she would fall flat on her face. For the question 'Who am I?' creates a need. And how does one satisfy that need? To probe oneself is to recognize that one is incomplete.”
“As soon as you discover the truth it's already gone: the moment passed. I ask: what is it? Reply: it's not.”
“She knew what desire was — though she didn’t know she knew. It was like this: she was starving but not for food, it was a kind of painful taste that rose from the pit of her stomach and made her nipples quiver and her arms empty without an embrace.”
“I am only true when I’m alone.”
“There are those who have. And there are those who have not. It's very simple: the girl had not. Hadn't what? Simply this: she had not. If you get my meaning that's fine. If you don't, it's still fine.”
“Όσο για το γράψιμο, περισσότερο αξίζει ένα ζωντανό σκυλί.”
“The doctor simply refused to take pity. And added: when you don’t know what to eat make a nice Italian spaghetti.”
“I am not an intellectual, I write with my body. And what I write is a moist fog.”
“There is no enough.’ Tarin flicked her indicator on, the clicking noise filling the car as she merged on to the motorway. ‘You seem to be forgetting that she’s in a clinical facility getting professional help. Which is great, obviously. Let them worry about how to deal with depression. You’re going to visit your friend, remember? Yes, she’s a patient, but she’s not your patient. So for God’s sake, don’t treat her like one.”
“Mythologist Joseph Campbell wisely tells us to scorn the happy ending, “for the world as we know it, as we have seen it, yields but one ending: death, disintegration, dismemberment, and the crucifixion of our heart with the passing of the forms that we have loved.”
“It doesn’t matter if I’m crazy, as long the madness helps me survive.”
“There was one thing that stood like stone among the music and moonfroth of the evening's gaieties. It was stupid, it was terrifying, it was wonderful, but it had happened and I could do nothing about it. For better or worse, I was head over ears in love...”
“Let us say that we did battle, and I emerged the victor. By your reasoning, I would thus become the rightful King of Vaa-oh, wait. I see now. That would not serve, since I haven't the proper bloodline. What a cunning system you have there. You and all the other self-proclaimed royalty of Faerun. By your conditions, you alone are kings and queens and lords and ladies of court. You alone matter, while the peasant grovels and kneels in the mud, and since you alone are 'rightful' in the eyes of this god or that, then the peasant cannot complain. He must accept his muddy lot in life and revel in his misery, all in the knowledge that he serves the rightful king.”
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