There is no happiness without knowledge. But knowledge of happiness is unhappy; for knowing ourselves happy is knowing ourselves passing through happiness, and having to, immediatly at once, leave it behind. To know is to kill, in happiness as in everything. Not to know, though, is not to exist.

Fernando Pessoa

Categorized in : Unhappy Knowing Passing

The value of things is not the time they last, but the intensity with which they occur. That is why there are unforgettable moments and unique people!

Fernando Pessoa

lasts unique people

Life is what we make of it. Travel is the traveler. What we see isn't what we see but what we are.

Fernando Pessoa

book-of-disquiet traveler life-is

The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.

Fernando Pessoa

regret hurt hope

Stones in the road? I save every single one, and one day I'll build a castle.

Fernando Pessoa

castles one-day stones

I am nothing. I'll never be anything. I couldn't want to be something. Apart from that, I have in me all the dreams in the world.

Fernando Pessoa

dream want world

There is a time when it is necessary to abandon the used clothes, which already have the shape of our body and to forget our paths, which takes us always to the same places. This is the time to cross the river: and if we don't dare to do it, we will have stayed, forever beneath ourselves

Fernando Pessoa

clothes time rivers

My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddlestrings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.

Fernando Pessoa

symphony soul sound

I wasn’t meant for reality, but life came and found me.

Fernando Pessoa

book-of-disquiet found reality

We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept—our own selves—that we love.

Fernando Pessoa

self love-is ideas

There are no norms. All people are exceptions to a rule that doesn’t exist.

Fernando Pessoa

norm exception people

Have you ever considered, beloved other, how invisible we are to each other? We look at each other without seeing. We listen to each other and hear only a voice inside out self. The words of others are mistakes of our hearing, shipwrecks of our understanding. How confidently we believe OUR meanings of other people's words.

Fernando Pessoa

self mistake believe

I always live in the present. The future I can't know. The past I no longer have.

Fernando Pessoa

live-in-the-present knows past

In today's life, the world belongs only to the stupid, the insensitive and the agitated. The right to live and triumph is now conquered almost by the same means by which you conquer internment in an asylum: the inability to think, amorality and hiperexcitation.

Fernando Pessoa

stupid mean thinking

Everything is worthwhile if the soul is not small.

Fernando Pessoa

worthwhile soul ifs

Everything interests me, but nothing holds me.

Fernando Pessoa

book-of-disquiet hold-me interest

Everything around me is evaporating. My whole life, my memories, my imagination and its contents, my personality - it's all evaporating. I continuously feel that I was someone else, that I felt something else, that I thought something else. What I'm attending here is a show with another set. And the show I'm attending is myself.

Fernando Pessoa

imagination personality memories

We are two abysses - a well staring at the sky.

Fernando Pessoa

abyss sky two

For who expects nothing, all that comes is grateful

Fernando Pessoa

expect-nothing grateful

It's been a long time since I've been me.

Fernando Pessoa

long-time time long

To kill our dream life would be to kill ourselves, to mutilate our soul. Dreaming is the one thing we have that's really ours, invulnerably and inalterably ours.

Fernando Pessoa

soul would-be dream