So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
Clarice LispectorRead
Things were somehow so good that they were in danger of becoming very bad because what is fully mature is very close to rotting
Interpretation
This quote reflects on the paradox of maturity and vulnerability.
Clarice Lispector suggests that when things reach a state of completeness or maturity, they also become susceptible to decline or decay. This observation highlights the fragile balance between flourishing and deteriorating, reminding us that the more we cherish something or make it perfect, the closer it may come to breaking down or losing its essence.
In practice
During a lecture on the dual nature of success, one might use this quote to illustrate the fragility of achievement.
So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
A horse is freedom so indominable that it becomes useless to imprison it to serve man: it lets itself be domesticated, but with a simple, rebellious toss of the head-shaking its mane like an abundance of free-flowing hair-it shows that its inner nature is always wild, translucent and free.
The mystery of human destiny is that we are fated, but that we have the freedom to fulfill or not fulfill our fate: realization of our fated destiny depends on us. While inhuman beings like the cockroach realize the entire cycle without going astray because they make no choices.
Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grΓ’ce- which is called passion.
I work only with lost and founds.
Ela acreditava em anjo e, porque acreditava, eles existiam" | "She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed
Anyone who knows me, should learn to know me again; For I am like the Moon, you will see me with new face everyday.
How wonderful is death! Death and his brother sleep.
Those who travel to mountain-tops are half in love with themselves, and half in love with oblivion.
Eating, drinking, dying - three primary manifestations of the universal and impersonal life. Animals live that impersonal and universal life without knowing its nature. Ordinary people know its nature but don't live it and, if they think seriously about it, refuse to accept it. An enlightened person knows it, lives it, and accepts it completely. He eats, he drinks, and in due course he dies - but he eats with a difference, drinks with a difference, dies with a difference.
We wait. We are bored. (He throws up his hand.) No, don't protest, we are bored to death, there's no denying it. Good. A diversion comes along and what do we do? We let it go to waste. Come, let's get to work! (He advances towards the heap, stops in his stride.) In an instant all will vanish and we'll be alone more, in the midst of nothingness!
The most melancholy of human reflections, perhaps, is that, on the whole, it is a question whether the benevolence of mankind does most good or harm.
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