Quotes About Existence

La libertad en sí -como acto de percepción- no tiene forma. Y como el verdadero pensamiento se piensa a sí mismo, esa especie de pensamiento alcanza su objeto en el propio acto del pensar.

Of my own death, yes, I was indeed aware, for death was the future and is imaginable, and I had always had time to imagine. But the instant, the very instant - the right now - that is unimaginable, between the right now and the I there is no space: it is just now, inside me.

But there are questions I asked myself as a child and that were never answered, they still echo mournfully: did the world make itself? But where did it make itself? in what place? And if it was by the energy of God - how did it begin? could it be like now when I am being and at the same time making myself? It's because of the absence of an answer that I get so bothered.

Civilizar minha vida é expulsar-me de mim. O que me mata é o cotidiano. Eu queria só exceções. Estou perdida: eu não tenho hábitos.

I find it hard to believe that I shall die. Because I'm bubbling in cold freshness. My life will be very long because each instant is. I get the feeling I'm about to be born and can't.

Aquello que será después es ahora. Ahora es el dominio de ahora. Y mientras dura la improvisación yo nazco.

Living is extremely tolerable, living keeps us busy and distracts us, living makes us laugh.

Pues prescidir de la esperanza significa que tengo que pasar a vivir y no solo a prometerme la vida. Y este es el mayor miedo que puedo tener.

Entonces se escuchan los grillos mojados. La luz del miligramo no altera la oscuridad. Pues la oscuridad no es iluminable, la oscuridad es un modo de ser: la oscuridad es el nudo vital de la oscuridad, y nunca se toca en el nudo vital de una cosa.

Mesmo sofrer era bom porque enquanto o mais baixo sofrimento se desenrolava também se existia — como um rio a parte. E também se podia esperar o instante que vinha... que vinha... e de súbito se precipitava em presente e de repente se dissolvia... e outro que vinha... que vinha...

Meu mistério é simples: eu não sei como estar viva.

Do zero ao infinito vou caminhando sem parar. Mas ao mesmo tempo tudo é tão fugaz. Eu sempre fui e imediatamente não era mais.

A verdade é sempre um contato interior inexplicável. A verdade é irreconhecível. Portanto não existe? Não, para os homens não existe.

My mystery is simple: I don't know how to be alive through pain. --That's right. --And don't you know how to be alive through pleasure? --I almost do. That's what I was trying to tell you.

The struggle to reach reality—that's the main objective of this creature who tries, in every way, to cling to whatever exists by means of a total vision of things. I meant to make clear too the way vision—the way of seeing, the viewpoint—alters reality, constructing it. A house is not only constructed with stones, cement etc. A man's way of looking constructs it too.

because our living matter is greater than we are

É que tudo o que tenho não se pode dar. Nem tomar. Eu mesma posso morrer de sede diante de mim.

For the present has no hope, and the present has no future: the future will be exactly once again present.

Se eu der o grito de alarme de estar viva, em mudez e dureza me arrastarão pois arrastam os que saem para fora do mundo possível, o ser excepcional é arrastado, o ser gritante.

Viver é o meu código e o meu enigma. E quando eu morrer serei para os outros um código e um enigma.

Truth doesn't make sense, the hugeness of the world makes me shrink. What I probably asked for and finally found still ended up leaving me unprepared, like a child walking alone across the earth. So unprepared that only my love of all the universe could console me and satisfy me, only a love such that the very egg-cell of things would resonate with what I call love. With what in fact I am merely naming without knowing its name.

We've been keeping our deaths a secret so as to make our lives possible.

What did I know about whatever it was that others obviously saw in me? how would I know if I went around with my stomach pressed into the dust of the ground. Truth has no witness? being isn't knowing? If a person doesn't look and doesn't see, does the truth exist anyway? The truth that doesn't transmit itself even to those who can see. Is that the secret of being a person?

De repente as coisas não precisam mais fazer sentido. Satisfaço-me em ser. Tu és? Tenho certeza que sim. O não sentido das coisas me faz ter um sorriso de complacência. De certo tudo deve estar sendo o que é.