Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is.
The problem of art is to discipline emotion without losing it.
“Normal is getting dressed in clothes that you buy for work and driving through traffic in a car that you are still paying for - in order to get to the job you need to pay for the clothes and the car, and the house you leave vacant all day so you can afford to live in it.”
- Ellen Goodman
Language is the only homeland.
The book is the shadow of something inside the mind of the writer and that the author cannot clearly grasp: that shadow gains reality and the rest disappears. The work becomes real and the idea is left as a vestige of the work, progressively more unreal. When reading Yeats’ earlier poems - only good after twenty years, after many corrections and changes - I think that he initially wrote them in order to reach their current form: they are poems that needed the author’s entire life to reach their perfect form. Perhaps, in the mind of the poets, there are no “bad” poems; perhaps in each bad poem there is a good poem, the one that moved the author to write it. Yeats began writing his poems because he confusedly saw them as they are now, in their current form after the final corrections; perhaps bad poems are merely unfinished poems.
My bones seem to cry out knowing that you have not been properly loved today.
God doesn’t need us because by not needing us it opens up the possibility for Him to want us. And you would always rather be wanted than needed because in the wanting there is a deeper affection that says this: ‘I desire to be with you,’ not, ‘I have to be with you.’
February 12, 1809: Charles Darwin is born.
“…from the war of nature, from famine and death, the most exalted object which we are capable of conceiving, namely, the production of the higher animals, directly follows. There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved.”
- Charles Darwin, On the Origin of Species
We write to taste life twice, in the moment, and in retrospection.
Que as minhas palavras sejam
dilacerantes toques macios
sobre a impenetrável seda que é
a tua pele para mim matinal.
You teach people how to treat you by what you allow, what you stop, and what you reinforce.
Being a scientist means living on the borderline between your competence and your incompetence. If you always feel competent, you aren’t doing your job.
“Hard work is simply the refuge of people who have nothing to do.”
- Oscar Wilde
O mundo, um balaústre ornamentado
da tua face.