Quotes About Existence

Usefulness, whatever form it may take, is the price we should pay for the air we breathe and the food we eat and the privilege of being alive.

Adults, waiting for tomorrow, move in a present behind which is yesterday or the day before yesterday or at most last week: they don't want to think about the rest. Children don't know the meaning of yesterday, or even of tomorrow, everything is this, now: the street is this, the doorway is this, the stairs are this, this is Mamma, this is Papa, this is the day, this the night.

I said to myself that maturity consisted in accepting the turn that existence had taken without getting too upset, following a path between daily practices and theoretical achievements, learning to see oneself, know oneself, in expectation of great changes.

The title is Ulysses' 'Is it about the Odyssey?' 'No, it's about how prosaic life is today.' 'And so?' 'That's all. It says that our heads are full of nonsense. That we are flesh, blood, and bone. That one person has the same value as another. That we want only to eat, drink, fuck.

To tolerate existence, we lie, and we lie above all to ourselves. Sometimes we tell ourselves lovely tales, sometimes petty lies. Falsehoods protect us, mitigate suffering, allow us to avoid the terrifying moment of serious reflection, they dilute the horrors of our time, they even save us from ourselves.

Maybe I should tell her that things without a meaning are the most beautiful ones

Women without love lose the light in their eyes, women without love die while they are still alive.

What a fuss for a name: famous or not, it's only a ribbon tied around a sack randomly filled with blood, flesh, words, shit, and petty thoughts.

That people, even more than things, lost their boundaries and overflowed into shapelesness is what most frightened her.

Esistere è questo, pensai, un sussulto di gioia, una fitta di dolore, un piacere intenso, vene che pulsano sotto la pelle, non c'è nient'altro di vero da raccontare.

Children don't know the meaning of yesterday, or even of tomorrow, everything is this, now: the street is this, the doorway is this, the stairs are this, this is Mamma, this is Papa, this is the day, this is the night.

every choice has its history, so many moments of our existence are shoved into a corner, waiting for an outlet, and in the end the outlet arrives.

en el mundo no había nada que ganar, que su vida estaba llena de aventuras diferentes y desatinadas igual que la mía, y que el tiempo sencillamente se escurre sin

vivíamos, cuántos fragmentos de nosotros mismos salían volando como si vivir fuese estallar en esquirlas.

Eh, she said once, what a fuss for a name: famous or not, it's only a ribbon tied around a sack randomly filled with blood, flesh, words, shit, and petty thoughts. She mocked me at length on that point: I untie the ribbon—Elena Greco—and the sack stays there, it functions just the same, haphazardly, of course, without virtues or vices, until it breaks.

La madurez consistía en aceptar el curso que había tomado la existencia sin agitarse demasiado, trazar un surco entre la práctica cotidiana y el aprendizaje teórico, aprender a verse, a conocerse a la espera de los grandes cambios

Mi dicevo che la maturità consisteva nell'accettare la piega che aveva preso l'esistenza senza agitarsi troppo, tracciare un solco tra prassi quotidiana e acquisizioni teoriche, imparare a vedersi, a conoscersi in attesa di grandi cambiamenti. Giorno

Voksne venter på i morgen, bevæger sig i en nutid bag hvilken der er i går eller i forgårs eller højst sidste uge: Resten vil de ikke tænke på. Børn kender ikke betydningen af i går, af i forgårs eller sågar af i morgen, alt er lige nu; gaden er den, døråbningen er den, trapperne er dem, det er mor, det er far, det er dagen, det er natten.

I was secretly convinced that I would truly exist only at the moment when my signature, Elena Greco, appeared in print...

No es locura, Dede, es dolor. -No derramó ni una lágrima. -Las lágrimas no son el dolor. -Sí, pero sin las lágrimas, ¿quién te asegura que el dolor existe?

There are moments when what exists on the edges of our lives, and which, it seems, will be in the background forever—an empire, a political party, a faith, a monument, but also simply the people who are part of our daily existence—collapses in an utterly unexpected way, and right when countless other things are pressing upon us.

Perhaps the idea of money as a cement to solidify our existence and prevent it from dissolving, together with the people who were dear to us, endured. But

Aunt Lina said that spirits existed, but not in the places, or in the alleys, or near the ancient gates of the Vatso. They existed in people's ears, in the eyes when eyes looked inside and not out, in the voice as soon as it begins to speak, in the head when it thinks, because words are full of ghosts but so are images. Is it true, Mamma?

said to myself that maturity consisted in accepting the turn that existence had taken without getting too upset, following