We never know self-realization. We are two abysses - a well staring at the sky.
Toda a compreensão é imperfeita porque, quanto mais se expande, em maiores fronteiras confina com o incompreensível que a cerca.
The cause of my profound sense of incompatibility with others is, I believe, that most people think with their feelings, whereas I feel with my thoughts.For the ordinary man, to feel is to live, and t...
Si la liberación no está dentro de mí, no está, para mi, en ninguna parte.
O único sentido íntimo das cousas É elas não terem sentido íntimo nenhum.
Não aspiro a nada. Dói-me a vida. Estou mal onde estou e já mal onde penso em poder estar.
Life is what we conceive it to be. For the farmer who considers his field to be everything, the field is an empire. For a Caesar whose empire is still not enough, the empire is a field. The poor man w...
I’ve reached the point where tedium is a person, the incarnate fiction of my own company.
I have a very simple morality: not to do good or evil to anyone. Not to do evil, because it seems only fair that others enjoy the same right I demand for myself – not to be disturbed – and also becaus...
Every spoken word double-crosses us. The only tolerable form of communication is the written word, since it isn't a stone in a bridge between souls but a ray of light between stars.
E eu que só oiço o ruído calado do sangue que há na minha vida dos dois lados da cabeça.
No-one loves another More than he loves whatever another within may haveThat is part of one's self
Ζήτησα τόσο λίγα απ' τη ζωή, αλλά ακόμα κι αυτά τα λίγα η ζωή μού τα αρνήθηκε. Ένα υπόλειμμα από ένα κομμάτι ήλιου, λίγη ύπαιθρο, λίγη ησυχία κι ένα κομμάτι ψωμί, να μη με βαραίνει πολύ η γνώση ότι υπ...
Ó mar salgado, quanto do teu sal são lágrimas de Portugal. (…) Valeu a pena? Tudo vale a pena se a alma não é pequena. Quem quer passar além do Bojador tem que passar além da dor.
To feel everything in every way; to be able to think with the emotions and feel with the mind; not to desire much except with the imagination; to suffer with haughtiness; to see clearly so as to write...
Saudades, só portuguesesConseguem senti-las bem.Porque têm essa palavraPara dizer que as têm.
Não sou nada.Nunca serei nada.Não posso querer ser nada.À parte isso, tenho em mim todos os sonhos do mundo.
Life is what we make of it. Travel is the traveler. What we see isn't what we see but what we are.
If I write what I feel, it's to reduce the fever of feeling. What I confess is unimportant, because everything is unimportant.
I have no philosophy, I have senses . . . If I speak of Nature it’s not because I know what it is But because I love it, and for that very reason, Because those who love never know what they love Or w...