Whether she won or lost, she would continue to wrestle with life. It would not be with her own life alone but with all of life. Something had finally been released within her. And there it was, the sea. 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 breathing silence world 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 knowing beautiful school 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-away philosophical ends Holding someone's hand was always my idea of joy. Clarice Lispector joy hands ideas 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 want believe cheating 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 madness writing long I write and that way rid myself of me and then at last I can rest. Clarice Lispector lasts writing way Facts and particulars annoy me. Clarice Lispector annoying facts Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grâce- which is called passion. Clarice Lispector passion love life 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-own writing But don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes. Clarice Lispector strawberries seasons forget 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 film stars moments In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness. Clarice Lispector planes goodness world I ask myself: is every story that has ever been written in this world, a story of suffering and affliction? Clarice Lispector suffering stories world 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 praise men needs
