I' is merely one of the world's instantaneous spasms. Clarice Lispector More Quotes by Clarice Lispector More Quotes From Clarice Lispector The world's continual breathing is what we hear and call silence. Clarice Lispector breathingsilenceworld Today at school I wrote an essay about Flag Day which was so beautiful, but ever so beautiful - for I even used words without really knowing what they meant. Clarice Lispector knowingbeautifulschool For only when I err do I get away from what I know and what I understand. If "truth" were what I can understand, it would end up being but a small truth, my-sized. Truth must reside precisely in what I shall never understand. Clarice Lispector get-awayphilosophicalends Holding someone's hand was always my idea of joy. Clarice Lispector joyhandsideas I just know that I don't want cheating. I refuse. I deepened myself but I don't believe in myself because my thought is invented. Clarice Lispector wantbelievecheating I write as if to save somebody’s life. Probably my own. Life is a kind of madness that death makes. Long live the dead because we live in them. Clarice Lispector madnesswritinglong I write and that way rid myself of me and then at last I can rest. Clarice Lispector lastswritingway Facts and particulars annoy me. Clarice Lispector annoyingfacts Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grâce- which is called passion. Clarice Lispector passionlovelife I, who called love my hope for love. Clarice Lispector hope-love I write to save someone's life, probably my own Clarice Lispector my-ownwriting But don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes. Clarice Lispector strawberriesseasonsforget For at the hour of death you became a celebrated film star, it is a moment of glory for everyone, when the choral music scales the top notes. Clarice Lispector filmstarsmoments In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness. Clarice Lispector planesgoodnessworld I ask myself: is every story that has ever been written in this world, a story of suffering and affliction? Clarice Lispector sufferingstoriesworld Even great men are only truly recognized and honored once they are dead. Why? Because those who praise them need to feel themselves somehow superior to the person praised, they need to feel they are making some concession. Clarice Lispector praisemenneeds
