André > Recent Status Updates

"Realidade ou desejo incerto, o amor é o elemento primitivo da actividade interior; é a causa, o fim e o resumo de todos os afectos humanos."

‘Mine’: what does this word mean? Not what belongs to me, but what I belong to, what contains my whole being, which is mine only so far as I belong to it.

"He cannot become old, for he has never been young; he cannot become young, for he has already become old; in a way he cannot die, for he has never lived; in a way he cannot live, for he is already dead; he cannot love, for love is always in the present, and he has no present time, no future, no past, and yet he is of a sympathetic nature, and he hates the world only because he loves it..."

"I am no friend of metaphors; modern literature has given me a great aversion to them; it has come almost to the point where, every time I come upon a metaphor, I am seized by an involuntary fear that its true purpose is to conceal an obscurity in the thought."

"-Não há dúvida de que a ruína é bem mais suportável numa luxuosa casa, num bairro elegante, com um mordomo competente e uma excelente cozinheira - de graça, ainda por cima - e quando a gente pode cobrir a carcaça com um vestido de Chanel... não é verdade?"

"Os mortos parecem tão irremediavelmente mortos quando mortos."

"...pois os homens não são somente eles; são também a região onde nasceram, a quinta ou a casa da cidade onde aprenderam a andar, os brinquedos com que brincaram em crianças, as lendas que ouviram dos mais velhos, a comida de que se alimentaram, as escolas que frequentaram, os desportos em que se exercitaram, os poetas que leram e o Deus em que acreditaram."

"Só quando somos adultos, porventura quando nós próprios temos filhos, compreendemos inteiramente que os nossos pais tiveram uma existência cheia e complexa antes de nascermos."

"Life seemed an inextricable confusion. Men hurried hither and thither, urged by forces they knew not; and the purpose of it all escaped them; they seemed to hurry just for the sake of hurrying."

“He had thought of love as a rapture which seized one so that all the world seemed spring-like, he had looked forward to an ecstatic happiness; but this was not happiness; it was a hunger of the soul, it was a painful yearning, it was a bitter anguish, he had never known before.”

"He looked at the people walking about and envied them because they had friends; sometimes his envy turned to hatred because they were happy and he was miserable. He had never imagined that it was possible to be so lonely in a great city."

"It is such as he, as little conscious of himself as the bee in a hive, who are the lucky in life, for they have the best chance of happiness: their activities are shared by all, and their pleasures are only pleasures because they are enjoyed in common."

"O mais velho, o seu irmão preferido, dera um tiro na cabeça; Fern caíra de uma janela, ou atirara-se: e Perry era dado à violência, um autêntico criminoso. Assim, num certo sentido, só escapava ela. E o que a atormentava era a ideia de que viria o tempo em que também ela havia de sucumbir: de endoidecer, de contrair uma doença incurável ou perder num incêndio tudo aquilo que amava: casa, marido e filhos."

“He soon felt that the fulfillment of his desires gave him only one grain of the mountain of happiness he had expected. This fulfillment showed him the eternal error men make in imagining that their happiness depends on the realization of their desires.”

"He sat on his bed in the dark, doubled his arms round his knees and thought, scarcely breathing from the mental strain. But the more mental effort he mada the cleares he saw that it was undoubtedly so: that he had really forgotten and overlooked one little circumstance in life - that Death would come and end everything, so that it was useless to begin anything, and that there was no help for it."

"Oh yes, it is good to be your age, Anna continued, "I remember and know that blue mist, like the mist on the Swiss mountains... that mist which envelops everything at that blissful time when childhood is just, just coming to an end, and its immense, blissful circle turns into an ever narrowing path, and you enter the defile gladly yet with dread, though it seems bright and beautiful...Who has not passed through it?"

"E o que eu quero é que olhem para a minha cultura pessoal. Que vejam em que estado é que ela está. Isto cá por dentro não é um lugar bonito. E eis então a razão por que quero sair disparado do mundo do dinheiro e entrar... entrar em quê? Entrar no mundo do pensamento e do fascínio. E como é que lá vou dar? Digam-me, por favor. Sozinho, não consigo lá chegar. Não sei o caminho, e pronto."

"Na sala de videojogos os espectros proletários da noite nova-iorquina, esses adoradores da escuridão, debruçam-se sobre os painéis de comando, vendo reflectidas nos ecrãs as suas expressões aterrorizadas."

"A dor é fecunda em misérias e o mais das vezes elas transformam-se em verdades."

"A honra, o que era? Um brio de obter um direito, e não trair nem a terra nem os homens, uma paixão fria de resistir ao que era vulgar."

"Sem a amizade, o homem vive no deserto da ideia que faz de si próprio, elogiando às vezes o próprio coração mas sem lhe reconhecer a existência. Exagera-se a sensibilidade dele, mas não se compreendem os seus recursos."