They lived the slow and invisible interpenetration of their universes, like two stars gravitating around a common axis, in ever tighter orbits, whose clear destiny is to coalesce at some point in space and time.
Paolo GiordanoRead
You'll get used to it. In the end you won't even notice it anymore," he said. "How is that possible? It will always be there, right before my eyes." "Exactly," said Mattia. "Which is precisely why you won't see it anymore.
Interpretation
Familiarity can lead to a lack of awareness regarding what is always present.
This quote reflects on the human tendency to become desensitized to the things we are constantly exposed to. As we become accustomed to our surroundings or experiences, we often stop noticing them, despite their constant presence, highlighting the paradox of perception and the nature of attention.
In practice
In a motivational talk about adapting to change, one might use this quote to emphasize the importance of evolving perspectives.
They lived the slow and invisible interpenetration of their universes, like two stars gravitating around a common axis, in ever tighter orbits, whose clear destiny is to coalesce at some point in space and time.
[Their love] had burned itself out, like a forgotten candle in an empty room, leaving behind a ravenous discontent.
All Mattia saw was a shadow moving toward him. He instinctively closed his eyes and then felt Alice’s hot mouth on his, her tears on his cheek, or maybe they weren’t hers, and finally her hands, so light, holding his head still and catching all his thoughts and imprisoning them there, in the space that no longer existed between them.
In fact, they didn't talk much at all, but they spent time together, each in his own abyss, held safe and tight by the other's silence.
Mattia was right: the days had slipped over her skin like a solvent, one after the other, each removing a very thin layer of pigment from her tattoo, and from both of their memories. The outlines, like the circumstances, were still there, black and well delineated, but the colors had merged together until they faded into a dull, uniform tonality, a neutral absence of meaning.
People took what they wanted, they clutched at coincidences, the few there were, and made a life from them. . . . Choices are made in brief seconds and paid for in the time that remains.
All human states are organic brain states - happiness, sadness, fear, lust, dreaming, doing math problems and writing novels - and our brains are not static.
We often want one thing and pray for another, not telling the truth even to the gods.
Properly speaking, all true work is religion.
Although a biologist, I must confess I do not understand how life came about... I consider that life only starts at the level of a functional cell. The most primitive cells may require at least several hundred different specific biological macro-molecules. How such already quite complex structures may have come together, remains a mystery to me. The possibility of the existence of a Creator, of God, represents to me a satisfactory solution to this problem.
Every tradition grows continually more venerable, and the more remote its origins, the more this is lost sight of. The veneration paid the tradition accumulates from generation to generation, until it at last becomes holy and excites awe.
The art of life, of a poet's life, is, not having anything to do, to do something.
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