Trang > Trang's Quotes

Showing 1-27 of 27
sort by

  • #1
    Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
    “Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”
    Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPERY - MAN

  • #2
    J.R.R. Tolkien
    “All that is gold does not glitter,
    Not all those who wander are lost;
    The old that is strong does not wither,
    Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

    From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
    A light from the shadows shall spring;
    Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
    The crownless again shall be king.”
    J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

  • #3
    Karl Lagerfeld
    “Sweatpants are a sign of defeat. You lost control of your life so you bought some sweatpants.”
    Karl Lagerfeld

  • #4
    Karl Lagerfeld
    “I’m very much down to earth, just not this earth.”
    Karl Lagerfeld

  • #5
    Karl Lagerfeld
    “Fashion does not have to prove that it is serious. It is the proof that intelligent frivolity can be something creative and positive”
    Karl Lagerfeld

  • #6
    Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
    “What you seek is seeking you.”
    Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi

  • #7
    Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
    “We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust.”
    Rumi

  • #8
    William Shakespeare
    “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
    I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him;
    The evil that men do lives after them,
    The good is oft interred with their bones,
    So let it be with Caesar ... The noble Brutus
    Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
    If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
    And grievously hath Caesar answered it ...
    Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,
    (For Brutus is an honourable man;
    So are they all; all honourable men)
    Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral ...
    He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
    But Brutus says he was ambitious;
    And Brutus is an honourable man….
    He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
    Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
    Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
    When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
    Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
    Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
    And Brutus is an honourable man.
    You all did see that on the Lupercal
    I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
    Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
    Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
    And, sure, he is an honourable man.
    I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
    But here I am to speak what I do know.
    You all did love him once, not without cause:
    What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
    O judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
    And men have lost their reason…. Bear with me;
    My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
    And I must pause till it come back to me”
    William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

  • #9
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

  • #10
    William Shakespeare
    “Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.”
    William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

  • #11
    William Shakespeare
    “Hell is empty and all the devils are here.”
    William Shakespeare, The Tempest

  • #12
    William Shakespeare
    “The worst was this: my love was my decay.”
    William Shakespeare, Shakespeare's Sonnets

  • #13
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “It was love at first sight, at last sight, at ever and ever sight.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #14
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “He broke my heart. You merely broke my life.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #15
    Sappho
    “You may forget but
    let me tell you
    this: someone in
    some future time
    will think of us”
    Sappho, The Art of Loving Women

  • #16
    Sappho
    “What is beautiful is good, and who is good will soon be beautiful.”
    Sappho

  • #17
    Sappho
    “Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.”
    Sappho

  • #18
    Dante Alighieri
    “There is no greater sorrow
    Than to recall a happy time
    When miserable.”
    Dante Alighieri

  • #19
    Alfred Tennyson
    “Sometimes the heart sees what's invisible to the eye.”
    Tennyson

  • #20
    J.R.R. Tolkien
    “How do you move on? You move on when your heart finally understands that there is no turning back.”
    Tolkein

  • #21
    Dylan Thomas
    “Do not go gentle into that good night.
    Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
    Dylan Thomas, In Country Sleep, and Other Poems

  • #22
    Dylan Thomas
    “When one burns one's bridges, what a very nice fire it makes.”
    Dylan Thomas

  • #23
    Dylan Thomas
    “I think, that if I touched the earth,
    It would crumble;
    It is so sad and beautiful,
    So tremulously like a dream.”
    Dylan Thomas

  • #24
    Charles Dickens
    “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”
    Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

  • #25
    Pablo Neruda
    “Every Day You Play....
    Every day you play with the light of the universe.
    Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water,
    You are more than this white head that I hold tightly
    as a bunch of flowers, every day, between my hands.

    You are like nobody since I love you.
    Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.
    Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?
    Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

    Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.
    The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.
    Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.
    The rain takes off her clothes.

    The birds go by, fleeing.
    The wind.  The wind.
    I alone can contend against the power of men.
    The storm whirls dark leaves
    and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.

    You are here.  Oh, you do not run away.
    You will answer me to the last cry.
    Curl round me as though you were frightened.
    Even so, a strange shadow once ran through your eyes.

    Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
    and even your breasts smell of it.
    While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
    I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

    How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
    my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
    So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
    and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.

    My words rained over you, stroking you.
    A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
    Until I even believe that you own the universe.
    I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
    I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”
    Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

  • #26
    Pablo Neruda
    “I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

    Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
    and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

    The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

    I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
    I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

    On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
    I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

    She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
    How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

    I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
    To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

    To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
    And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

    What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
    The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

    That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
    My soul is lost without her.

    As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
    My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

    The same night that whitens the same trees.
    We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

    I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
    My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

    Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
    belonged to my kisses.
    Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

    I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
    Love is so short and oblivion so long.

    Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
    my soul is lost without her.

    Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
    and this may be the last poem I write for her.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #27
    Anaïs Nin
    “Sex must be mixed with tears, laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine.”
    Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934



Rss