in Quotes & Aphorisms (Books)
The really great writers are those whose thought occupies all the angles and the folds of their style.
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The really great writers are those whose thought occupies all the angles and the folds of their style.
I imagine life to be like that. A long chain of moments. And I imagine that all that one can do is to try and live them one by one, without staying to think too much about those moments which have just passed or that are about to arrive.
Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is. These are the three characteristics which the preliminary examination of the phenomenon of being allows us to assign to the being of phenomena.
There were sins whose fascination was more in the memory than in the doing of them, strange triumphs that gratified the pride more than the passions, and gave to the intellect a quickened sense of joy, greater than any joy they brought, or could ever bring, to the senses.
Sooner or later in life everyone discovers that perfect happiness is unrealizable, but there are few who stop to consider the antithesis; that perfect unhappiness is equally unattainable.
But he suddenly started up, and, closing his eyes, placed his fingers upon the lids, as though he sought to imprison within his brain some curious dream from which he feared he might awake.
Had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would raise a hand against him. I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out and drank his blood! But till then, if you don't believe me, you don't know me - till then, I would have died by by inches I touched a single hair on his head!
"You must never be ashamed. Accept all that life gives you and make an effort to drink from the cups it presents you. You must taste all the wines: of some, only a few sips; of others, the whole bottle.""How can I recognize them?""From the flavour. Only who tasted bad wine can identify the good one."
He was wrong, and he knew he had to pay the price. And the price was drinking a cup full of the cruelest of poisons: solitude.
He always remained close to me, he gave me the better of himself, and I wish to be close to him 'til the end of my days. But my heart's currents are a mistery, and I'll never understand what happened. Of course, I know that that meeting increased faith in myself, showing me that I was still capable of loving and of being loved, and revealing me a teaching that I'll never forget through life, when you find yourself in front of something important it doesn't mean you must give up all other things.