Love is a battle?” said Franz. “Well, I don’t feel at all like fighting.” And he left.
The cemetery was vanity transmogrified into stone.
The thing that gives our every move its meaning is always totally unknown to us.
It would be so simple to find peace in the world of fantasy. But I’ve always tried to live in the two worlds at the same time without giving up one for the other. I must not give up the real world even though I am losing everything in it. Perhaps it will be enough in the end if I manage one thing. One last thing: To hand over my life as a clear message to the one person able to understand it and carry it on.
Atunci am inteles semnificatia magica a cercului. Cand iesi din rand mai poti reveni. Randul este o formatiune deschisa. Cercul insa se inchide, si-l parasesti fara posibilitatea intoarcerii.
When music plays, we hear the melody, forgetting that it is only one of the modes of time; when the orchestra falls silent, we hear time; time itself.
Raised as we are on the mythology of the Old Testament, we might say that an idyll is an image that has remained with us like a memory of Paradise: life in Paradise was not like following a straight line to the unknown; it was not an adventure. It moved in a circle among known objects. Its monotony bred happiness, not boredom.
In existential mathematics that experience takes the form of two basic equations: The degree of slowness is directly proportional to the intensity of memory; the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting.
She saw her soul shinning through the features on her face.
Her image of it came entirely from what she had heard. Or read. Or received unconsciously from distant ancestors. And yet it lived within her.
Not long ago, I caught myself experiencing a most incredible sensation. Leafing through a book on Hitler, I was touched by some of his portraits: they reminded me of my childhood. I grew up during the war; several members of my family perished in Hitler’s concentration camps; but what were their deaths compared with the memories of a lost period in my life, a period that would never return?
Without asking her permission, someone is trying to intrude her life, draw her attention, in short, to bother her.
Her nascent love inflamed her sense of beauty”.
He was not at all sure he was doing the right thing, but he was sure he was doing what he wanted to do.
Not only have people stopped trying to be attractive when they are out among other people, but they are no longer even trying not to look ugly!
He knew perfectly well that his petition would not help the prisoners. His true goal was not to free to prisoners; it was to show that people without fear still exist.
Franz could not accept that the fact that the glory of the Grand March was equal to the comic vanity of its marchers.
He had come to find out once and for all that neither parades nor Sabina but rather the girl with the glasses was his real life, his only real life! He had come to find out that reality was more than a dream, much more than a dream!
Los cuerpos desnudos y mojados de las mujeres se empujaban impacientes para ver de cerca la muerte, para verla en una cara familiar, conocida.
A man who loses his privacy loses everything, Sabina thought.