Quotes About Existence

Bullets--to a philosopher my dear Mamma--are not worth considering. I do not believe the Gods would create so potent a being as myself for so prosaic an ending.

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.   Even

A che serve qui chiedersi sotto quante stelle nasce l'uomo, e sotto quante dopo un attimo muore.

Even a passing moment has its fertile past.

We all use phrases such as 'the ordinary world,' 'ordinary life,' 'the ordinary course of events.' But in the language of poetry, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone's existence in this world.

But human beings are, by nature, sad. So be it, then. It isn't all that bad.

No carece de encantos un mundo tan terrible, no carece de madrugadas que merecen un despertar.

Hay tanto de Todo que lo que hay de Nada queda muy bien cubierto.

When they said he didn't exist, he couldn't die of grief, so he had to be born. He's already out there living somewhere; he blinks his little eyes and grows.

A thousand and one is still only a thousand. That one seems never to have existed: a

A vida dura o tempo de umas marcas de garra na areia.

We, too, can divide ourselves, it's true. / But only into flesh and a broken whisper. / Into flesh and poetry.

No he vivido más que tú, sino sólo lo bastante para pensar de lejos.

Así, por obra del azar, soy y miro. Una mariposa blanca aletea en el aire con alas que sólo a ella pertenecen, y una sombra sobrevuela mi mano, la suya, no otra, no de cualquiera. Ante hechos semejantes me abandona la certeza de que lo importante es más importante que lo que no importa.

El cielo está en todas partes, incluso en la oscuridad bajo la piel. Me alimento de cielo, evacuo cielo. Soy una trampa en la trampa, un habitante habitado, un brazo abrazado, una pregunta en respuesta a una pregunta.

No existe vida que, aun por un instante, no sea inmortal. La muerte siempre llega con ese instante de retraso. En vano golpea con la aldaba en la puerta invisible. Lo ya vivido no se lo puede llevar.

En el tercer planeta del sol la conciencia limpia y tranquila es síntoma primordial de animalidad.

Y helo aquí: en un estado indeporable, el escarabajo muerto en el sendero resplandece bajo el sol. El tiempo de una mirada basta para pensar en él: no le ha ocurrido nada importante, parece. Lo importante, dicen, es lo que nos atañe a nosotros. La vida, pero solo nuestra, o la muerte, pero también sólo nuestra, una muerte que así goza de su obligada primacía.

Å»ycie, cho?by i dÅ'ugie, zawsze bÄ™dzie krótkie.

This terrifying world is not devoid of charms, of the mornings that make waking up worthwhile.

Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.

So much world all at once--how it rustles and bustles! Moraines and morays and morasses and mussels, the flame, the flamingo, the flounder, the feather--

I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other. I could have had different ancestors, after all. I could have fluttered from another nest or crawled bescaled from under another tree. Nature's wardrobe holds a fair supply of costumes: spider, seagull, field mouse. Each fits perfectly right off and is dutifully worn into shreds.

the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.