Quotes from The Late Mattia Pascal

Luigi Pirandello ·  272 pages

Rating: (10.5K votes)


“Le anime hanno un loro particolar modo d'intendersi, d'entrare in intimità, fino a darsi del tu, mentre le nostre persone sono tuttavia impacciate nel commercio delle parole comuni, nella schiavitù delle esigenze sociali. Han bisogni lor proprii e le loro proprie aspirazioni le anime, di cui il corpo non si dà per inteso, quando veda l'impossibilità di soddisfarli e di tradurle in atto. E ogni qualvolta due che comunichino fra loro così, con le anime soltanto, si trovano soli in qualche luogo, provano un turbamento angoscioso e quasi una repulsione violenta d'ogni minimo contatto materiale, una sofferenza che li allontana, e che cessa subito, non appena un terzo intervenga. Allora, passata l'angoscia, le due anime sollevate si ricercano e tornano a sorridersi da lontano.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Tu non le sai, povero ubriaco filosofo, queste cose; non ti passano neppure per la mente. Ma la causa vera di tutti i nostri mali, di questa tristezza nostra, sai qual è? La democrazia, mio caro, la democrazia, cioè il governo della maggioranza. Perché quando il potere è in mano d’uno solo, quest’uno sa d’essere uno e di dover contentare molti; ma quando i molti governano, pensano soltanto a contentar se stessi, e si ha allora la tirannia più balorda e più odiosa: la tirannia mascherata da libertà.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Lessi così di tutto un po', disordinatamente; ma libri, in ispecie, di filosofia. Pesano tanto:
eppure, chi se ne ciba e se li mette in corpo, vive tra le nuvole.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Ebbene signor Meis, il destino di Roma è l’identico. I papi ne avevano fatto – a modo loro, s’intende – un’acquasantiera; noi italiani ne abbiamo fatto, a modo nostro, un portacenere.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Ogni oggetto in noi suol trasformarsi secondo le immagini ch’esso evoca e aggruppa, per così dire, attorno a sé. Certo un oggetto può piacere anche per se stesso, per la diversità delle sensazioni gradevoli che ci suscita in una percezione armoniosa; ma ben più spesso il piacere che un oggetto ci procura non si trova nell’oggetto per sé medesimo. La fantasia lo abbellisce cingendolo e quasi irraggiandolo d’immagini care. Né noi lo percepiamo più qual esso è, ma così, quasi animato dalle immagini che suscita in noi o che le nostre abitudini vi associano. Nell’oggetto, insomma, noi amiamo quel che vi mettiamo di noi, l’accordo, l’armonia che stabiliamo tra esso e noi, l’anima che esso acquista per noi soltanto e che è formata dai nostri ricordi.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal



“Porque la vida, por todas sus descaradas absurdidades, pequeñas y grandes, de que está felizmente llena, tiene el inestimable privilegio de poder prescindir de esta estupidísima verosimilitud, a la que el arte cree su deber prestar obediencia.
Las absurdidades de la vida no tienen necesidad de parecer verosímiles, porque son verdaderas. Al contrario de las del arte, que, para parecer verdaderas, tienen necesidad de ser verosímiles. Y entonces, al ser verosímiles, ya no son absurdidades.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“-In cuor di donna quanto dura amore? (Ore)
-Ed ella non mi amò quant'io l'amai? (Mai)
-Or chi sei tu sì ti lagni meco? (Eco)”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Lessi così di tutto un po', disordinatamente; ma libri, in ispecie, di filosofia. Pesano tanto: eppure, chi se ne ciba e se li mette in corpo, vive tra le nuvole.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Siamo o non siamo su un’invisibile trottolina, cui fa da ferza un fil di sole, su un granellino di sabbia impazzito che gira e gira e gira, senza saper perché, senza pervenir mai a destino, come se ci provasse gusto a girar così, per farci sentire ora un po’ più di caldo, ora un po’ più di freddo, e per farci morire – spesso con la coscienza d’aver commesso una sequela di piccole sciocchezze – dopo cinquanta o sessanta giri?”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Si reconocemos que equivocarse es propio del hombre, ¿no es una crueldad sobrehumana la justicia?”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal



“Dalle vette nuvolose delle sue astrazioni il signor Anselmo lasciava spesso precipitar così, come valanghe, i suoi pensieri. La ragione, il nesso, l’opportunità di essi rimanevano lassù, tra le nuvole, dimodochè difficilmente a chi lo ascoltava riusciva di capirci qualche cosa.”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Hai mai pensato di andare via e non tornare mai più? Scappare e far perdere ogni tua traccia, per andare in un posto lontano e ricominiciare a vivere, vivere una vita nuova, solo tua, vivere davvero. Ci hai mai pensato?”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“Mi parve anche che questo nome quadrasse bene alla faccia sbarbata e con gli occhiali, ai capelli lunghi, al cappellaccio alla finanziera che avrei dovuto portare. «Adriano Meis. Benone! M›hanno battezzato.»”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


“dello Sperone ch’era il miglior vigneto della nostra contrada,”
― Luigi Pirandello, quote from The Late Mattia Pascal


About the author

Luigi Pirandello
Born place: in Agrigento, Sicily, Italy
Born date June 28, 1867
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*Then with alcoholic talkativeness
You've just told me some high spots in your memories. Want to hear mine? They're all connected with the sea. Here's one. When I was on the Squarehead square rigger, bound for Buenos Aires. Full moon in the Trades. The old hooker driving fourteen knots. I lay on the bowsprit, facing astern, with the water foaming into spume under me, the masts with every sail white in the moonlight, towering high above me. I became drunk with the beauty and signing rhythm of it, and for a moment I lost myself -- actually lost my life. I was set free! I dissolved in the sea, became white sails and flying spray, became beauty and rhythm, became moonlight and the ship and the high dim-starred sky! I belonged, without past or future, within peace and unity and a wild joy, within something greater than my own life, or the life of Man, to Life itself! To God, if you want to put it that way. Then another time, on the American Line, when I was lookout on the crow's nest in the dawn watch. A calm sea, that time. Only a lazy ground swell and a slow drowsy roll of the ship. The passengers asleep and none of the crew in sight. No sound of man. Black smoke pouring from the funnels behind and beneath me. Dreaming, not keeping looking, feeling alone, and above, and apart, watching the dawn creep like a painted dream over the sky and sea which slept together. Then the moment of ecstatic freedom came. the peace, the end of the quest, the last harbor, the joy of belonging to a fulfillment beyond men's lousy, pitiful, greedy fears and hopes and dreams! And several other times in my life, when I was swimming far out, or lying alone on a beach, I have had the same experience. Became the sun, the hot sand, green seaweed anchored to a rock, swaying in the tide. Like a saint's vision of beatitude. Like a veil of things as they seem drawn back by an unseen hand. For a second you see -- and seeing the secret, are the secret. For a second there is meaning! Then the hand lets the veil fall and you are alone, lost in the fog again, and you stumble on toward nowhere, for no good reason!
*He grins wryly.
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Yes, there's the makings of a poet in you all right.
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The *makings of a poet. No, I'm afraid I'm like the guy who is always panhandling for a smoke. He hasn't even got the makings. He's got only the habit. I couldn't touch what I tried to tell you just now. I just stammered. That's the best I'll ever do, I mean, if I live. Well, it will be faithful realism, at least. Stammering is the native eloquence of us fog people.”
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