You can't measure time by days, the way you measure money by dollars and cents, because dollars are all the same while every day is different and maybe every hour as well.
Jorge Luis BorgesRead
It means much to have loved, to have been happy, to have laid my hand on the living Garden, even for a day.
Interpretation
This quote reflects the value of experiencing love and joy, even if only for a brief time.
In this quote, Jorge Luis Borges expresses the profound significance of having loved and found happiness, emphasizing that even a fleeting moment of connection with life and beauty ('the living Garden') holds immense worth. It suggests that the richness of these experiences, regardless of their duration, contributes to the essence of human existence and fulfillment.
In practice
This quote can serve as a comforting reminder during a wedding speech about cherishing moments of love.
You can't measure time by days, the way you measure money by dollars and cents, because dollars are all the same while every day is different and maybe every hour as well.
To say good-bye is to deny separation; it is to say Today we play at going our own ways, but we'll see each other tomorrow. Men invented farewells because they somehow knew themselves to be immortal, even while seeing themselves as contingent and ephemeral.
The execution was set for the 29th of March, at nine in the morning. This delay was due to a desire on the part of the authorities to act slowly and impersonally, in the manner of planets or vegetables.
This felicitous supposition declared that there is only one Individual, and that this indivisible Individual is every one of the separate beings in the universe, and that these beings are the instruments and masks of divinity itself.
A man sets out to draw the world. As the years go by, he peoples a space with images of provinces, kingdoms, mountains, bays, ships, islands, fishes, rooms, instruments, stars, horses, and individuals. A short time before he dies, he discovers that the patient labyrinth of lines traces the lineaments of his own face.
Let neither tear nor reproach besmirch this declaration of the mastery of God who, with magnificent irony, granted me both the gift of books and the night.
You are helpful, and you are loved, and you are forgiven, and you are not alone.
Love simply is. That is the testament of Athena or Sherine or Hagia Sofia - love is. No definitions. Love and don't ask too many questions. Just love.
O, how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame.
Ask yourself my love whether you are not very cruel to have so entrammelled me, so destroyed my freedom. Will you confess this in the Letter you must write immediately, and do all you can to console me in it β make it rich as a draught of poppies to intoxicate me βwrite the softest words and kiss them that I may at least touch my lips where yours have been. For myself I know not how to express my devotion to so fair a form: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair.
Ever since I first came here in 1963 to fight Henry Cooper, I have loved the people of England.
I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.
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