Quotes from Elena Ferrante

Next to her, in the place where we were born, I was only a decoration, that is, I bore witness to Lila's merits. Those who had known us from birth attributed to her, to the force of her attraction, the fact that the neighborhood could have on its streets an esteemed person like me.

Era yo-quienquiera que yo fuese-, y debía ocuparme de aquella cara, aquel cuerpo, aquellos pensamientos.

Beautiful writing becomes beautiful when it loses its harmony and has the desperate power of the ugly. And characters? I feel they are false when they exhibit clear coherence and I become passionate about them when they say one thing and do another.

Reading brought on a desire to write, and writing brought on a desire to read.

The "Genuine 'real life,'" as Dostoevsky called it, is an obsession, a torment for the writer. With greater or less ability we fabricate fictions not so that the false will seem true but to tell the most unspeakable truth with absolute faithfulness through the fiction.

I tend toward an expansive sentence that has a cold surface and, visible underneath it, a magma of unbearable heat. I want readers to know from the first lines what they will have to deal with.

Al final decidí que, con veterinario o sin él, el concierto me relajaría. La música siempre hace bien, desata los nudos con que los nervios se aferran a las emociones.

I hope that in the free time of old age, the wonder will return.

Le cose più difficili da raccontare sono quelle che noi stessi non riusciamo a capire.

Yo estaba aturdida, tenía la sensación de que la piel me apretaba demasiado los músculos, los huesos. Esa era la verdadera vida de Carrano. O la falsa, pero a mí me parecía ya más propia de él que la otra.

Les bons sentiments sont fragiles. Avec moi, l'amour ne résiste pas.

Come soffrivo per lei e per me, come mi vergognavo di essere uscita dalla sua pancia di persona scontenta.

Tout rapport intense entre des êtres humains est truffé de pièges et, si on veut qu'il dure, il faut apprendre à les esquiver.

We draw up lists of the good and the bad as if the many privileges deriving from chance aren't there: your place of birth, your family, the inequality of opportunities.

Il futuro - pensai - sarà tutto così, la vita viva insieme all'odore umido della terra dei morti, l'attenzione insieme alla disattenzione, i balzi entusiastici del cuore insieme ai bruschi cali di significato. Ma non sarà peggio del passato.

The struggle is due to the fact that the present — the entire present — even that of the "I" who writes, letter by letter — can't maintain with clarity the thought-vision, which always comes before, is always the past, and therefore tends to be blotted out.

The hue itself, moreover, that certain emotions take on is of unimportant duration, the one who is writing knows. As soon as you look for words, the slowness becomes a whirlwind and the colors get mixed together like the colors of different fruits in a blender.

And I imagined that I was in a race against time, a race in which the writer always lagged behind. While, in fact, the letters were rapidly lining up next to one another, asserting themselves, the vision fled, and writing was destined to a frustrating approximation. It was too slow to capture the brain wave.

Forse era vero, ciò che di Bianca mi sembrava antipatico era solo il riflesso dell'antipatia che provavo per me.

I am in danger of going deaf, mute, and turning nihilistic thanks to the countless failures and the unpredictability of rare successes.

Quantas palavras permanecem impronunciáveis mesmo entre um casal que se ama, e como é alto o risco de que outros o destruam ao revelá-las.

Je reste convaincue que « je te hais » possède une force et une honnêteté sentimentale que n'a pas « je te hais !!! ». Dans l'écriture au moins, il faudrait éviter de faire comme ces fous qui gouvernent le monde et qui menacent, trafiquent, traitent et, quand ils gagnent, exultent, en truffant leurs discours de ces minuscules missiles à tête nucléaire qui concluent chacune de leurs misérables phrases.

we protect the truth principally by telling the truth about ourselves.

Ernest's mistake is to succeed by prudently respecting the rules of an old, well-known game; Gertrude's virtue is to succeed by sticking to the old, well-known game but in order to disrupt it and bend it to her purposes.