Quotes About Identity

Tal vez la norestina ya hubiese llegado a la conclusión de que la vida incomoda bastante, el alma no cabe bien en el cuerpo, aun un alma pobre como la suya.

Esa muchacha no sabía que ella era lo que era, tal como un cachorro no sabe que es cachorro. Por eso no se sentía infeliz. Lo único que quería era vivir. No sabía para qué, no se lo preguntaba. Quién sabe, tal vez encontraba que había una ínfima gloria en vivir. Pensaba que una persona está obligada a ser feliz. De modo que lo era.

Real life is so secret that not even I, who am dying of it, have been given the password, I am dying without knowing of what. And the secret is such that only if the mission is finally carried out do I, all of a sudden, see that I was born entrusted with it - all of life is a secret mission.

In my core I have the strange impression that I don't belong to the human species

If she was no longer herself that meant a loss that counted as a gain.

No fundo ela não passara de uma caixinha de música meio desafinada.

She herself asked for nothing, but her sex made its demands like a sunflower germinating in a tomb.

Only once did she ask a tragic question: who am I? It frightened her so much that she completely stopped thinking.

Nothing that I am not can interest me, it is impossible to be anything more than what you are.

My mystery is simple: I don't know how to be alive. - Because you only know, or only knew, how to be alive through pain.

Desculpai-me mas vou continuar a falar de mim que sou meu desconhecido, e ao escrever me surpreendo um pouco pois descobri que tenho um destino. Quem já não se perguntou: sou um monstro ou isto é ser uma pessoa?

she is a harmless virgin whom nobody needs. It strikes me that I don't need her either and that what I am writing could be written by another. Another writer, of course, but it would have to be a man for a woman would weep her heart out.

What an effort I make to be myself. I struggle against a tide in a boat with just enough room for my two feet in a perilous and fragile balance.

Não ter nascido bicho parece ser uma de minhas secretas nostalgias.

Though I sometimes scream: I no longer want to be I! but I stick to myself and inextricably there forms a tessitura of life.

But I've never known what to do with people and the things I like, sometimes they weigh me down, ever since I was a girl.

A feiura é o meu estandarte de guerra. Eu amo o feio com um amor de igual para igual.

My truest life is unrecognizable, extremely interior and there is not a single word that defines it.

It is instead just the grace of a common person turning suddenly real because he is common and human and recoignizable.

Talvez a nordestina já tivesse chegado à conclusão de que a vida incomoda bastante, alma que não cabe bem no corpo, mesmo alma rala como a sua.

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?

How do I explain that my greatest fear is precisely in relation to ... to being?" (5)

Ouve, por eu ter mergulhado no abismo é que estou começando a amar o abismo de que sou feita.

Forgive me but I'm going to keep talking about me who am unknown to myself, and as I write I'm a bit surprised because I discover I have a destiny. Who hasn't ever wondered: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?