Quotes from Fernando Pessoa

Let grammar rule the man who doesn't know how to think what he feels. Let it serve those who are in command when they express themselves.

Mostrou-me como o sonho não consola, porque a vida dói mais quando se acorda

The entire life of the human soul is mere motions in the shadows. We live in a twilight of consciousness, never in accord with whom we are or think we are …

Everyone has his alcohol. To exist is alcohol enough for me.

When a man reaches the age of lucidity, one of his main concerns is to actively and thoughtfully shape himself into the image and likeness of his ideal.

Pero el que sueña lo posible tiene la posibilidad real de la verdadera desilusión.

It has always disappointed me to read the allusions in Amiel's diary to the fact that he published books. That's where he falls down. How great he would be otherwise!

Since I cannot live without affection, why was that affection taken from me?

It's good to live alone, And noble and great Always to live simply.

One day, when everything is finally and fully revealed, that other door will open and all that we were – rubbish of stars and souls – will be swept outside the house, so that what exists can start over.

The most contemptible thing about dreams is that everyone has them.

Civilizations appear only to exist in order to produce art and literature, for what speaks of them, what remains of them, are words.

My pride stoned by blind men and my disillusion trampled on by beggars.

It doesn't faze me when my dreams are interrupted; they're so gentle that I keep dreaming them as I speak, write, answer, or even discuss.

A vida é oca, a alma é oca, o mundo é oco. Todos os deuses morrem de uma morte maior que a morte. Tudo está mais vazio que o vácuo. E tudo um caos de coisas nenhumas.

All of us, in some part or other, are loathsome. We all harbour a crime we've committed, or a crime that our soul doesn't let us commit.

Fly, bird, fly away; teach me to disappear! from The Keeper of the Sheep

The things we achieve, whether empires or sentences, have (because they've been achieved) that fatal defect of real things: the fact they're perishable.

By day they're full of meaningless activity; by night they're full of a meaningless lack of it.

The true landscapes are those that we ourselves create since, being their gods, we see them as they truly are, which is however we created them.

I sleep on my elbows propped painfully on the railing and feel a great promise in knowing nothing.

My soul finds hard edges to all the soft comforts on which I lean for support.

Other people are no more for us than scenery, generally the invisible scenery of a street we know by heart.

I never was but an isolated bon vivant, which is absurd; or a mystic bon vivant, which is an impossible thing.