#literature

141 quotes

“Sólo con una ardiente paciencia conquistaremos la espléndida ciudad que dará luz, justicia y dignidad a todos los hombres. Así la poesía no habrá cantado en vano. Only with a burning patience can we conquer the splendid City which will give light, justice and dignity to all mankind. In this way the song will not have been sung in vain.”

“Es la hora, amor mío, de apartar esta rosa sombría, cerrar las estrellas, enterrar la ceniza en la tierra: y, en la insurrección de la luz, despertar con los que despertaron o seguir en el sueño alcanzando la otra orilla del mar que no tiene otra orilla. It is time, love, to break off that sombre rose, shut up the stars and bury the ash in the earth; and, in the rising of the light, wake with those who awoke or go on in the dream, reaching the other shore of the sea which has no other shore.”

“Religión en el Este (Religion in the East) from Memorial of Isla Negra [ Memorial de Isla Negra ] (1964), trans. by Anthony Kerrigan in Selected Poems by Pablo Neruda [Houghton Mifflin, 1990, ISBN 0”

“Y algo golpeaba en mi alma, fiebre o alas perdidas, y me fui haciendo solo, descifrando aquella quemadura y escribí la primera línea vaga, vaga, sin cuerpo, pura, tontería pura sabiduría del que no sabe nada, y vi de pronto el cielo desgranado y abierto. And something started in my soul, fever or forgotten wings, and I made my own way, deciphering that fire, and I wrote the first faint line, faint, without substance, pure nonsense, pure wisdom of someone who knows nothing, and I suddenly saw the heavens unfastened and open.”

“Oda a la Bella Desnuda (Ode to a Beautiful Nude) , from Nuevas Odas Elementales (1956), trans. Nathaniel Tarn in Selected Poems by Pablo Neruda [Houghton Mifflin, 1990, ISBN 0”

“Only now have I understood that there was a secret relationship between what I have called my expulsion from the present and the writing of poetry . Poetry is in love with the instant and seeks to relive it in the poem, thus separating it from sequential time and turning it into a fixed present. But at that time I wrote without wondering why I was doing it. I was searching for the gateway to the present: I wanted to belong to my time and to my century. A little later this obsession became a fixed idea: I wanted to be a modern poet. My search for modernity had begun. Nobel Lecture”

“There can be no society without poetry , but society can never be realized as poetry, it is never poetic. Sometimes the two terms seek to break apart. They cannot. "Signs in Rotation" (1967) in The Bow and the Lyre : The Poem, The Poetic Revelation, Poetry and History (1973) as translated by Ruth L.C. Simms, p. 249”

“Y así, del poco dormir y del mucho leer, se le secó el cerebro, de manera que vino a perder el juicio. Finally, from so little sleeping and so much reading, his brain dried up and he went completely out of his mind. Ch. 1 (tr. Samuel Putnam).”

“En un lugar de la Mancha, de cuyo nombre no quiero acordarme, no hace mucho tiempo que vivía un hidalgo de los de lanza en astillero, adarga antigua, rocín flaco y galgo corredor. In some village in La Mancha, whose name I do not care to recall, there dwelt not so long ago a gentleman of the type wont to keep an unused lance, an old shield, a skinny old horse, and a greyhound for racing. Ch. 1.”

“Acontece tener un padre un hijo feo y sin gracia alguna, y el amor que le tiene le pone una venda en los ojos para que no vea sus faltas, antes las juzga por discreciones y lindezas y las cuenta a sus amigos por agudezas y donaires. A father may have a child who is ugly and lacking in all the graces, and the love he feels for him puts a blindfold over his eyes so that he does not see his defects but considers them signs of charm and intelligence and recounts them to his friends as if they were clever and witty.”

“There are certain artists who belong to all the people, everywhere, all the time. The list of singers, musicians, and poets must include David the harpist from the Old Testament, Aesop the Storyteller, Omar Khayyam the Tent Maker, Shakespeare the Bard of Avon, Louis Armstrong the genius of New Orleans, Om Kalsoum the soul of Egypt, Frank Sinatra , Mahalia Jackson , Dizzy Gillespie , Ray Charles ... Celia Cruz ...All great artists draw from the same resource: the human heart, which tells us all that we are more alike than we are unalike. Maya Angelou Letter to My Daughter”

“I am capable of what every other human is capable of. This is one of the great lessons of war and life . As quoted in Goal Mapping : How to Turn Your Dreams into Realities (2006) by Brian Mayne, p. 84”

“Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry , but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh , eat , worry , and die , it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends . Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now (1993) p. 12.”

“Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage. As quoted in Diversity : Leaders Not Labels (2006) by Stedman Graham, p. 224”

“A bizarre sensation pervades a relationship of pretense . No truth seems true. A simple morning's greeting and response appear loaded with innuendo and fraught with implications. ... Each nicety becomes more sterile and each withdrawal more permanent. Singin' and Swingin' and Gettin' Merry Like Christmas (1976), chapter 5.”

“Barring that natural expression of villainy which we all have, the man looked honest enough. "A Mysterious Visit", Buffalo Express , 19 March 1870. Anthologized in Mark Twain's Sketches, New and Old‎”

“Ah, it was worth ten years of a man’s life to be dead then! Everything was pleasant. I was in a good neighbourhood, for all the dead people that lived near me belonged to the best families in the city. "A Curious Dream", in Mark Twain’s Sketches, Selected and Revised by the Author (London: George Routledge & Sons, 1872) p. 308”

“Cited by: William E. Phipps, Mark Twain's Religion , Mercer University Press, 2003, p. 18 Richard Locke, Critical Children: The Use of Childhood in Ten Great Novels , Columbia University Press, p. 12”

“Ahora tenemos un peronismo que es todo: es la extrema derecha, es el centro, es el centro izquierda, es la extrema izquierda, es la democracia y es el terrorismo, es la demagogia y es la insensatez... Todo es el peronismo... Now we have Peronism that is everything: it's the far right and its the center, it's left centrist and is also extreme leftist, it is democracy and is also terrorism, its demagogy is also insanity...Peronism is everything.”

“If the pages of this book contain some successful verse, the reader must excuse me the discourtesy of having usurped it first. Our nothingness differs little; it is a trivial and chance circumstance that you should be the reader of these exercises and I their author. "To the Reader" ["A quien leyere"], preface to Fervor of Buenos Aires [ Fervor de Buenos Aires ]”

“She would tell you herself that she has a very dreadful cold in her head at present; but I have not much compassion for colds in the head without fever or sore throat. Letter to Cassandra (1799”

“I had a very pleasant evening, however, though you will probably find out that there was no particular reason for it; but I do not think it worth while to wait for enjoyment until there is some real opportunity for it. Letter (1799”

“Here I am once more in this scene of dissipation and vice, and I begin already to find my morals corrupted. Letter (August 1796) on arriving in London [ Letters of Jane Austen”

“...We are all born happy. Life gets us dirty along the way, but we can clean it up. Happiness is not exuberant or noisy, like pleasure or joy; it’s silent, tranquil, and gentle; it’s a feeling of satisfaction inside that begins with self”

“...you shouldn't stay trapped in the past or be frightened of the future. You only have one life, but if you live it well, that’s enough. The only reality is now, today. What are you waiting for to be happy? Every day counts, I can tell you!”

“Where does taste end and smell begin? "Language of Flowers" anthologized in The Sweet Breathing of Plants: Women Writing on the Green World edited by Linda Hogan and Brenda Peterson”

“Think of life as it really is, think of the details of life; and then think that there is no meaning in it, no purpose, no goal except the grave. Surely only fools or self”

“As to a pseudonym, a name I always use when tramping etc is P. S. Burton, but if you don't think this sounds a probable kind of name, what about Kenneth Miles, George Orwell, H. Lewis Allways. I rather favour George Orwell. Letter to Leonard Moore”

“In England, a century of strong government has developed what O. Henry called the stern and rugged fear of the police to a point where any public protest seems an indecency. But in France everyone can remember a certain amount of civil disturbance, and even the workmen in the bistros talk of la revolution”

“And once, in spite of the men who gripped him by each shoulder, he stepped slightly aside to avoid a puddle on the path. It is curious, but till that moment I had never realised what it means to destroy a healthy, conscious man. When I saw the prisoner step aside to avoid the puddle, I saw the mystery, the unspeakable wrongness, of cutting a life short when it is in full tide. This man was not dying, he was alive just as we were alive. All the organs of his body were working”

“Interviewer: You describe seemingly fantastic events in such minute detail that it gives them their own reality. Is this something you have picked up from journalism? García Márquez: That's a journalistic trick which you can also apply to literature. If you say that there are elephants flying in the sky, people are not going to believe you. But if you say that there are four hundred and twenty”

“In the end all books are written for your friends. The problem after writing One Hundred Years of Solitude was that now I no longer know whom of the millions of readers I am writing for; this upsets and inhibits me. It's like a million eyes are looking at you and you don't really know what they think. p. 322”

“It always amuses me that the biggest praise for my work comes for the imagination, while the truth is that there's not a single line in all my work that does not have a basis in reality. The problem is that Caribbean reality resembles the wildest imagination. p. 322”

“¡Que no quiero verla! Dile a la luna que venga, que no quiero ver la sangre de Ignacio sobre la arena. ¡Que no quiero verla! I will not see it! Tell the moon to come, for I do not want to see the blood of Ignacio on the sand. I will not see it! Llanto por Ignacio Sanchez Mejias”

“Las heridas quemaban como soles a las cinco de la tarde, y el gentío rompía las ventanas a las cinco de la tarde. A las cinco de la tarde. ¡Ay qué terribles cinco de la tarde! ¡Eran las cinco en todos los relojes! ¡Eran las cinco en sombra de la tarde! The wounds were burning like suns at five in the afternoon, and the crowd broke the windows At five in the afternoon. Ah, that fatal five in the afternoon! It was five by all the clocks! It was five in the shade of the afternoon! Llanto por Ignacio Sanchez Mejias”

“Verde que te quiero verde. Verde viento. Verdes ramas. El barco sobre la mar y el caballo en la montaña. Green, how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches. The ship out on the sea and the horse on the mountain. " Romance Sonámbulo " from Primer romancero gitano”

“If I read a book [and] it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way? Letter to T. W. Higginson (1870); Letters (1958) p. 474, no. 342a”

“My friends are my "estate." Forgive me then the avarice to hoard them. Letter to Samuel Bowles (August 1858 or 1859); Thomas H. Johnson (ed.) The Letters of Emily Dickinson (1958) p. 338, no. 193”

“God is sitting here, looking into my very soul to see if I think right thoughts . Yet I am not afraid, for I try to be right and good; and He knows every one of my struggles. Letter to Abiah Root (29 January 1850); Mabel Loomis Todd (ed.) Letters of Emily Dickinson , vol. 1 (Boston: Roberts Bros, 1894) p. 39 [1] [2]”