we would understand much more about life's complexities if we applied ourselves to an assiduous study of its contradictions, instead of wasting time on identities and coherences, seeing as these have a duty to provide their own explanations.
The day before is what we bring to the day we're actually living through, life is a matter of carrying along all those days-before just as someone might carry stones, and when we can no longer cope with the load, the work is done, the last day is the only one that is not the day before another day.
Let him who has not a single speck of migration to blot his family escutcheon cast the first stone...if you didn't migrate then your father did, and if your father didn't need to move from place to place, then it was only because your grandfather before him had no choice but to go, put his old life behind him in search of the bread that his own land denied him...
A person is not like a thing that you put down in one place and leave, a person moves, thinks, asks, questions, doubts, investigates, probes, and while it is true that, out of a long habit of resignation, he sooner or later ends up looking as if he has submitted to the objects, don't go thinking that this apparent submission is necessarily permanent.
Tu es Sete-Sois porque ves as claras, tu seras Sete-Luas porque ves as escuras, e, assim, Blimunda, que ate ai so se chamava, como sua mae, de Jesus, ficou sendo Sete-Luas, e bem batizada estava, que o batismo foi de padre, nao alcunha de qualquer um. Dormiram nessa noite os sois e as luas abracados, enquanto as estrelas giravam devagar no ceu, Lua onde estas, Sol aonde vais.
Deve-se a construcao do convento de Mafra ao rei D. Joao V, por um voto que fez se lhe nascesse um filho, vao aqui seiscentos homens que nao fizeram filho nenhum a rainha e eles e que pagam o voto, que se lixam, com perdao da anacronica voz.
a veces nos preguntamos por que la felicidad tarda tanto en llegar, por que no vino antes, pero si nos aparece de repente, como en este caso, cuando ya no la esperabamos, entonces lo mas probable es que no sepamos que hacer con ella, y la cuestion no es tanto elegir entre reir o llorar, es la secreta angustia de pensar que tal vez no consigamos estar a su altura
The only miracle we can perform is to go on living, said the woman, to preserve the fragility of life from day to day, as if it were blind and did not know where to go, and perhaps it is like that, perhaps it really does not know, it placed itself in our hands, after giving us intelligence.
So quero dizer que aquilo que cada um de nos tiver de ser na vida, nao o sera pelas palavras que ouve nem pelos conselhos que recebe. Teremos de receber na propria carne a cicatriz que nos transforma em verdadeiros homens.
Unlike Joseph her husband, Mary is neither upright nor pious, but she is not blame for this, the blame lies with the language she speaks if not with the men who invented it, because that language has no feminine form for the words upright and pious.
Every second that passes is like a door that opens to allow in what has not yet happened, what we call the future, but, to challenge the contradictory nature of what we have just said, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the future is just an immense void, that the future is just the time on which the eternal present feeds.
It is an unwavering rule for those in power that, when it comes to heads, it is best to cut them off before they start thinking, afterwards, it might be too late.
However hard he tried, he could never manage to make himself visible to human eyes and not because he can't, since for him nothing is impossible, it's simply that he wouldn't know what face to wear when introducing himself to the beings he supposedly created and who probably wouldn't recognize him anyway. There are those who say we're very fortunate that god chooses not to appear before us, because compared with the shock we would get were ..
Yet human experience and the practice of communication have shown throughout the ages that definitions are an illusion, like having a speech defect and trying to say love but unable to get the word out, or, better, having a tongue in one's head but unable to feel love.