When I sleep every night, what am I called or not called? And when I wake, who am I if I was not I while I slept?
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the nature of identity and consciousness during sleep and waking states.
Pablo Neruda's quote delves into the philosophical question of self and identity. It prompts contemplation on the continuity of consciousness and what it means to exist as 'oneself'. While sleeping, our conscious awareness seems to disappear, leading to questions about who we are in those moments and if our identity is merely linked to wakefulness. This exploration highlights the complexities of understanding human existence and the essence of our self-awareness.
In practice
During a philosophy class discussion on the nature of self and consciousness.
Perhaps this war will pass like the others which divided us leaving us dead, killing us along with the killers but the shame of this time puts its burning fingers to our faces. Who will erase the ruthlessness hidden in innocent blood?
I want to see the thirst inside the syllables I want to touch the fire in the sound: I want to feel the darkness of the cry. I want words as rough as virgin rocks.β - Verb.
Only do not forget, if I wake up crying it's only because in my dream I'm a lost child hunting through the leaves of the night for your hands.
And here am I, budding among the ruins with only sorrow to bite on, as if weeping were a seed and I the earth's only furrow.
Once more I am the silent one who came out of the distance wrapped in cold rain and bells: I owe to earth's pure death the will to sprout.
I learned about life from life itself, love I learned in a single kiss and could teach no one anything except that I have lived with something in common among men.
I am so afraid of people's words.They describe so distinctly everything: And this they call dog and that they call house, here the start and there the end. I worry about their mockery with words, they know everything, what will be, what was; no mountain is still miraculous; and their house and yard lead right up to God. I want to warn and object: Let the things be! I enjoy listening to the sound they are making. But you always touch: and they hush and stand still. That's how you kill.
You have to find out who you are aside from what the media say you are. If you've become reliant on them for kind of a sense of self, then you're really screwed.
I remember her telling me once that rabbits were the gnomes in attendance to the Fairy Queen and that the stars were God's daisy chain. Perfect rot, of course.
Man's chief delusion is his conviction that there are causes other than his own state of consciousness.
Nothing has happened in the past; it happened in the Now. Nothing will ever happen in the future; it will happen in the Now.
The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to create whatever the form of government, a real despotism. A just estimate of that love of power, and proneness to abuse it, which predominates in the human heart is sufficient to satisfy us of the truth of this position.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.