anjo > anjo's Quotes

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  • #1
    Milan Kundera
    I think, therefore I am is the statement of an intellectual who underrates toothaches. I feel, therefore I am is a truth much more universally valid, and it applies to everything that's alive. My self does not differ substantially from yours in terms of its thought. Many people, few ideas: we all think more or less the same, and we exchange, borrow, steal thoughts from one another. However, when someone steps on my foot, only I feel the pain. The basis of the self is not thought but suffering, which is the most fundamental of all feelings. While it suffers, not even a cat can doubt its unique and uninterchangeable self. In intense suffering the world disappears and each of us is alone with his self. Suffering is the university of egocentrism.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #2
    Milan Kundera
    “I have a strong will to love you for eternity.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #3
    Milan Kundera
    “Just imagine living in a world without mirrors. You'd dream about your face and imagine it as an outer reflection of what is inside you. And then, when you reached forty, someone put a mirror before you for the first time in your life. Imagine your fright! You'd see the face of a stranger. And you'd know quite clearly what you are unable to grasp: your face is not you.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #4
    Milan Kundera
    “Perhaps we become aware of our age only at exceptional moments and most of the time we are ageless.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #5
    Milan Kundera
    “I cannot hate them because nothing binds me to them; I have nothing in common with them.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality
    tags: hate

  • #6
    Milan Kundera
    “The basis of shame is not some personal mistake of ours, but the ignominy, the humiliation we feel that we must be what we are without any choice in the matter, and that this humiliation is seen by everyone.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #7
    Milan Kundera
    “The purpose of the poetry is not to dazzle us with an astonishing thought, but to make one moment of existence unforgettable and worthy of unbearable nostalgia.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #8
    Milan Kundera
    “To be mortal is the most basic human experience, and yet man has never been able to accept it, grasp it, and behave accordingly. Man doesn't know how to be mortal. And when he dies, he doesn't even know how to be dead.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #9
    Milan Kundera
    “A person is nothing but his image. Philosophers can tell us that it doesn't matter what the world thinks of us, that nothing matters but what we really are. But philosophers don't understand anything. As long as we live with other people, we are only what other people consider us to be. Thinking about how others see us and trying to make our image as attractive as possible is considered a kind of dissembling or cheating. But does there exist another kind of direct contact between my self and their selves except through the mediation of the eyes? Can we possibly imagine love without anxiously following our image in the mind of the beloved? When we are no longer interested in how we are seen by the person we love, it means we no longer love.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #10
    Milan Kundera
    “Living, there is no happiness in that. Living: carrying one’s painful self through the world.
    But being, being is happiness. Being: Becoming a fountain, a fountain on which the universe falls like warm rain.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #11
    Milan Kundera
    “Hate traps us by binding us too tightly to our adversary.”
    Milan Kundera, Immortality

  • #12
    Leonard Cohen
    “The flowers that I left in the ground,
    that I did not gather for you,
    today I bring them all back,
    to let them grow forever,
    not in poems or marble,
    but where they fell and rotted.

    And the ships in their great stalls,
    huge and transitory as heroes,
    ships I could not captain,
    today I bring them back
    to let them sail forever,
    not in model or ballad,
    but where they were wrecked and scuttled.

    And the child on whose shoulders I stand,
    whose longing I purged
    with public, kingly discipline,
    today I bring him back
    to languish forever,
    not in confession or biography,
    but where he flourished,
    growing sly and hairy.

    It is not malice that draws me away,
    draws me to renunciation, betrayal:
    it is weariness, I go for weariness of thee,
    Gold, ivory, flesh, love, God, blood, moon-
    I have become the expert of the catalogue.

    My body once so familiar with glory,
    My body has become a museum:
    this part remembered because of someone's mouth,
    this because of a hand,
    this of wetness, this of heat.

    Who owns anything he has not made?
    With your beauty I am as uninvolved
    as with horses' manes and waterfalls.
    This is my last catalogue.
    I breathe the breathless
    I love you, I love you -
    and let you move forever.”
    Leonard Cohen, Selected Poems, 1956-1968

  • #13
    “The oft repeated jape about his father was just another lie, Lord Tywin Lannister in the end did not shit gold.”
    George R.R. Martin, A Storm of Swords

  • #14
    Sylvia Plath
    “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #15
    Anaïs Nin
    “How can I accept a limited definable self when I feel, in me, all possibilities?... I never feel the four walls around the substance of the self, the core. I feel only space. Illimitable space.”
    Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934
    tags: self



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