A diary is the last place to go if you wish to seek the truth about a person. Nobody dares to make the final confession to themselves on paper: or at least, not about love.
إن تداخل الحقائق هو الطريقة الوحيدة كى تكون أمينا مع الزمن، حاشد فى كل لحظة باحتمالات لانهائية التكاثر. والحياة تتوقف على فعل الاختيار، أبدية الدينونة، وأبدية الانتقاء.
Разве не зависит все на свете от нашей интерпретации царящего вокруг нас молчания?
We had not a taste in common. Our characters and predispositions were wholly different, and yet in the magical ease of this friendship we felt something promised us.
These are the moments which possess the writer, not the lover, and which live on perpetually. One can return to them time and time again in memory, or use them as a fund upon which to build the part o...
These are the moments which are not calculable, and cannot be assessed in words; they live on in the solution of memory, like wonderful creatures, unique of their kind, dredged up from the floors of s...
There was some unresolved inner knot which she wished to untie and which was quite beyond my skill as a lover or a friend. Of course. Of course. I knew as much as could be known of the psychopathology...
The loved object is simply one that has shared an experience at the same moment of time, narcissistically; and the desire to be near the beloved object is at first not due to the idea of possessing it...
The great prayer wound its way into my sleepy consciousness like a serpent, coil after shining coil of words—the voice of the muezzin sinking from register to register of gravity—until the whole morni...
No one thing can explain everything; though everything can illuminate something. God, I must be still drunk. If God were anything he would be an art. Sculpture or medicine. But the immense extension o...
I suppose events are simply a sort of annotation of our feelings--the one might be deduced from the other. Time carries us (boldly imagining that we are discrete ego's modeling our own personal future...
He hablado de la inutilidad del arte, pero no he dicho la verdad sobre el consuelo que procura.
Cuesta mucho luchar contra el deseo del corazón; todo lo que quiere obtener, lo compra al precio del alma.
Africa, which they had somehow visualized as an extension of Europe -- an extension of terms, of references to a definitive past -- had already asserted itself as something different: a forbidding dar...
A million muffin-eating moralists were waiting, not for us, Brother Ass, but for the plucky and tedious Trollope!
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and these findings about the penetralia of sexual life gave the writer a sort of justification for a native acerbity. Afterwards, when love left him in the lur...
Я говорил о бесполезности искусства, но ничего не сказал о том облегчении, которое оно способно принести. Утешение, которое я нахожу в такого рода работе ума и сердца, состоит в следующем: только , в...
Think she was also thinking, perhaps, of Justine, up there in the big house among the tall candles and the oil-paintings by forgotten masters.
Of women, the most we can say, not being Frenchmen, is that they are burrowing animals.
In these days Melissa's absorbed and provoking gentleness had all the qualities of a rediscovered youth. Her long uncertain fingers - I used to feel them moving over my face when she thought I slept,...