Quotes from Nikos Kazantzakis

La ce te uiti, mosule? Batranul a ridicat capul si a zambit cu tristete: - La viata mea, care curge la vale, fiule, a raspuns; la viata mea, care curge si se duce...

He did not die. The only ones who die are those who are too late to become immortal. He was not too late. God granted him time.

Death is not a door which closes; it is a door which opens. It opens, and you enter." "Enter where?" "The bosom of God.

WITH CLARITY and quiet, I look upon the world and say: All that I see, hear, taste, smell, and touch are the creations of my mind.

I am more worried than I seem. I keep working in order not to have time to be by myself. All of this life of mine strikes me as exceedingly sad, aimless. Creativity is an intoxicating alcohol in this base tavern of the world.

Love is not unarmed," said Jesus, looking at the centurion's cold blue eyes, his freshly shaven cheeks and fat, short-fingered hands. "Love too makes war and runs to the assault.

The dissolute and unlawful king came: Herod! I saw him with my own eyes when he called me to Jericho to heal him. I took along my secret herbs—I knew all about such lore—and went. I went, and from that day on, I have not been able to eat meat, for I saw his putrescent flesh; I have not been able to drink wine, for I saw his blood filled with worms. I have retained his stench in my nostrils for over thirty years.

I didn't know. I was fully aware of what would be destroyed. I did not know what would be built out of the ruins. No one can know that with any degree of certainty, I thought. The world is tangible, solid, we live in it and are struggling with it every moment it exist. The world of the future is not yet born

I have an extremely profound sadness, disturbance, uneasiness, abrupt alternation of insane joy and the most unbearable anguish.

It was being convulsed by a cry, a command to break our prison bars of morality, shame, and hope, and turn ourselves over to, lose ourselves in, become one with, the fearful, enticing Lover who lies in wait in the darkness and whom we call God. I felt that love, death, and God were one and the same. As the years went by, I became even more deeply aware of this terrifying Trinity that waits in ambush in the abyss of chaos - in the abyss and in our hearts.

Und das Licht hat geschworen, nicht aufzugeben, aber es weiß, das es keine Rettung gibt, es wird sich nicht ergeben, es erlischt.

Death, like life, dies at every moment and is born again at every moment.

run off—and how will you ever get control of them again! They come to life, join, separate, ignore your commands, arrange themselves as they like on the paper—black, with tails and horns. You scream at them and implore them in vain: they do as they please. Prancing, pairing up shamelessly before you, they deceitfully expose what you did not wish to reveal

And - God forgive me - I believe I am happy.

Dumnezeu i-a dat ochi saracului doar asa, de podoaba.

Semnul lasat de Dumnezeu cand atinge omul se numeste moarte.

My principle anguish and source of all my joys and sorrows from my youth onward has been the incessant, merciless battle between the spirit and the flesh...and my soul is the arena where these two armies have clashed and met.

Devenise ceva obisnuit, facea acest lucru in fiecare zi, ba chiar de mai multe ori pe zi, aducand trupul si sangele lui Hristos, ajutandu-i pe oameni sa dea fata cu moartea. Mureau impacati, dar parintele Iannaros nu uita vaietele, cuvintele lor de pe urma, lumina ochilor care se stingea, si nu putea sa se impace; mortii nu mai conteneau sa moara in sufletul lui.

A alma humana é inteiramente lama, é bruta, não trabalhada, tem sensações ainda grosseiras e rudes, não consegue prever nada de nítido, de certo.

Each man acquires the stature of the enemy with whom he wrestles.

Camarile ticsite ale Pompeiului debordau, femeile boite, impudice, sterile; barbatii mercantili, mediocri, sarcastici, obositi! Toti zeii repudiati - din Grecia, din Orient, din Egipt - se inhaitau intr-o hora scelerata, rapace, impartindu-si, ranjind, ofrandele sacre si sufletul oamenilor. In vreme ce, la picioarele vezuviului, cetatea statea intr-o rana, hohotind fara griji.

To prolong one's parting from a beloved friend is poison. To leave with a knife stroke is better, for it allows one to return to humanity's natural climate: solitude.

La única forma de salvarse uno mismo es luchar para salvar a los otros…». Adelante, pues, maestro predicador… ¡Vamos!

I feel that I'm losing the most beautiful years of my life.