Quotes About Sensations

Reality is made up of what is common and shared. That's why we as individuals only exist in the spurious part of our sensations.

I'm older than Time and Space, because I'm conscious. Things derive from me; the whole of Nature is the offspring of my sensations. I seek and I don't find. I want and can't have. Without me the sun rises and expires; without me the rain falls and the wind howls. It's not because of me that there are seasons, the twelve months, time's passage. Lord of the world in me which, like earthly lands, I can't take with me (...)

Life is whatever we conceive it to be. For the farmer who considers his field to be everything, the field is an empire. For a Caesar whose empire is still not enough, the empire is a field. The poor man possesses an empire, the great man a field. All that we truly possess are our own sensations; it is in them, rather than in what they sense, that we must base our life's reality.

We do not possess our sensations, and through them we cannot possess ourselves.

Besides, what can I expect from myself? My sensations in all their horrible acuity, and a profound awareness of feeling … A sharp mind that only destroys me, and a ferocious capacity for dreaming to keep me entertained … A dead will and a reflection that cradles it

Whatever is real in our sensations is precisely what they have that isn't ours. The sensations common to us all are what constitute reality. Our sensations' individuality, therefore, lies in whatever they have that's erroneous. What joy it would give me to see a scarlet-coloured sun! How totally and exclusively mine it would be!

M? încearc? un dezgust fizic fa?? de umanitatea vulgar?;de altfel,e singura care exist?.Iar uneori îmi îng?dui capriciul de a aprofunda acest dezgust,aÅŸa cum îÅ£i poÅ£i provoca voma ca s? te uÅŸurezi de senzaÅ£ia de vom?.

Drunk on errors, for a few moments I stray away from feeling myself live.

All that we truly possess are our own sensations; it is in them, rather than in what they sense, that we must base our life's reality.

esa proximidad al objeto que reside en las sensaciones carnales (el tacto, el gusto o el olfato) esculpen al encuentro de la conciencia; poder restituir de la visión interior, del olvido del sueño

This is my morality, or metaphysics, or me: passer-by of everything, even of my own soul, I belong to nothing, I desire nothing, I am nothing – just an abstract centre of impersonal sensations, a fallen sentient mirror reflecting the world's diversity. I don't know if I'm happy this way. Nor do I care.

All that we truly possess are our own sensations; it is in them, rather than in what they sense, that we must base our life's reality. This has nothing to do with anything.

Porque, al final, ¿quién soy, cuando no juego? Un pobre huérfano abandonado en la calle de las Sensaciones, tiritando de frío por las esquinas de la Realidad, que tiene que dormir en la escalinata de la Tristeza y comer el pan que le da la Fantasía.

Life for us is whatever we imagine it to be. To the peasant with his one field, that field is everything, it is an empire. To Caesar with his vast empire which still feels cramped, that empire is a field. The poor man has an empire; the great man only a field. The truth is that we possess nothing but our own sensations; it is on them, then, and not what they perceive, that we must base the reality of our life. But all of this is apropos of nothing.

the painful acuity of my sensations, even those that bring me joy; the joyful acuity of my sensations, even those that are sad.

Tanta inconsecuencia en querer bastarme a mí mismo!¡ ¡Tanta conciencia sarcástica de sensaciones imaginadas! Tanto enredo del alma con las sensaciones, de los pensamientos con el aire y el río, para decir que me duele la vida en el olfato en conciencia, para no saber decir, como en la frase sencilla y total del libro de Job, mi alma está cansada de mi vida.

De resto, com que posso contar comigo? Uma acuidade horrível das sensações, e a compreensão profunda de estar sentindo... Uma inteligência aguda para me destruir, e um poder de sonho sôfrego de me entreter... Uma vontade morta e uma reflexão que a embala, como a' um filho vivo... Sim, croché...

Emma notaba el corazón, que volvía a latirle, y cómo le circulaba la sangre por la carne como un río de leche

In England, rain was thin and cold, and made you hunch up inside your coat, walking home from the bus stop. In Jamaica, it was wide and thick and invited you to step into it, and see how wet you could get, and be thrilled that it was warmer than the sea and warmer than your skin; it was abandon.

Driving a race car isn't too far a cry from driving any other sports car, but driving one through Africa in the middle of the night offers a wide scree of new sensations.

I have cultivated my hysteria with pleasure and terror.

His heartbeat was all over the place and there was a two-thousand-voice choir in his head screaming you just had sex!

Feelings are designed to encode judgments about things in our environment.

Es extraño: mi sudor es caliente y el sudor de Rosario es frío, reptiliano, y tiene un sabor agridulce (el mío es claramente salado).