Quotes About Existence

Now I sense the perfume of flowers like seeing a new thing. I know they smell just as well as I know I existed. They're things known from the outside. But now I know with my breathing from the back of my head.

A kid thinking about fairy tales and believing in fairy tales Acts like a sick god, but like a god. Because even though he affirms that what doesn't exist exists, He knows things exist, that he exists, He knows existing exists and doesn't explain itself, And he knows there's no reason at all for anything to exist. He knows being is the point. All he doesn't know is that thought isn't the point. (10/1/1917)

I saw that there is no Nature, That Nature doesn't exist, That there are hills, valleys, plains, That there are trees, flowers, weeds, That there are rivers and stones, But there is not a whole these belong to, That a real and true wholeness Is a sickness of our ideas.

All beings exist and nothing else And that's why they're called beings

Something changed in part of reality — my knees and my hands. What science has knowledge for this? The blind man goes on his way and I don't make any more gestures. It's already not the same time, or the same people, or anything the same. This is being real.

Yes: I exist inside my body. I'm not carrying the sun and the moon in my pocket. I don't want to conquer worlds because I slept badly, And I don't want to eat the world for breakfast because I have a stomach. Indifferent? No: a son of the earth, who, if he jumps, it's wrong, A moment in the air that's not for us, And only happy when his feet hit the ground again, Pow! In reality where nothing's missing! (6/20/1919)

Olá, guardador de rebanhos, Aí à beira da estrada, Que te diz o vento que passa?' 'Que é vento, e que passa, E que já passou antes, E que passará depois. E a ti o que te diz?' 'Muita coisa mais do que isso, Fala-me de muitas outras coisas. De memórias e de saudades E de coisas que nunca foram.' 'Nunca ouviste passar o vento. O vento só fala do vento. O que lhe ouviste foi mentira, E a mentira está em ti.

Lightly, lightly, very lightly, A wind passes very lightly And goes away, always very lightly. And I don't know what I think And I don't want to know.

If they want me to have mysticism, okay, I've got it. I'm a mystic, but only in my body, My soul is simple and doesn't think.

Praise be to God I'm not good, And have the natural egotism of flowers And rivers following their bed Preoccupied without knowing it Only with blooming and flowing. This is the only mission in the World, This—to exist clearly, And to know how to do it without thinking about it.)

Nothing at all reminds us of something else when we pay attention to it. Each thing only reminds us of what it is And it's only what nothing else is. The fact that it's it separates it from every other thing. (Everything's nothing without another thing that's not it).

That thing over there was more there than it's there! Yes, sometimes I cry about the perfect body that doesn't exist. But the perfect body is the bodiest body there can be, And the rest are the dreams men have, The myopia of someone who doesn't look very much,

Quem ama é diferente de quem é. É a mesma pessoa sem ninguém

Um dia de chuva é tão belo como um dia de sol. ambos existem, cada um como é. Por isso não há vantagem em pôr nomes errados às cousas, nem mesmo em lhes pôr nomes alguns

Yes, this is what my senses alone have learned:— Things don't have significance: they only have existence. Things are the only hidden meaning of things.

Digo de mim 'sou eu'. E não digo mais nada. Que mais há a dizer?

Si quieren que tenga un misticismo, está bien, lo tengo. Soy místico, mas solo con el cuerpo. Mi alma es pura y no piensa. Mi misticismo es no querer saber. Es vivir y no pensarlo

Há metafísica bastante em não pensar em nada.

Sinto-me nascido a cada momento para a completa novidade do mundo...

But if God is the flowers and the trees And the hills and the sun and the moonlight, Then I believe in him, Then I believe in him all the time, And my whole life is an oration and a mass, And a communion with my eyes and through my ears.

A beleza é o nome de qualquer coisa que não existe Que eu dou às coisas em troca do agrado que me dão

La mayor parte de la gente - responde Kustos - hace eso. ¿No? Trabajan para poder trabajar

Nuestros saludos son despedidas: de muchas formas vivimos en el abandono -en a búsqueda de la inconsciencia- pero tal vez lo hacemos porque tenemos tan claro y tan presente que todo va a terminar. Si cada muerte es un apocalipsis en miniatura, porque el mundo termina para quien deja de existir y todo el tiempo hay alguien que muere... Alberto Chimal, del libro "Diarios del Fin del Mundo

Tú estás solo, pero no por eso mereces morir.