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The confession of one man humbles all.

Antonio Porchia

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Antonio Porchia
Age: 81 †
Born: 1886
Born: November 25
Died: 1968
Died: November 6
Aphorist
Poet
Writer
Humbles
Confession
Men

More quotes by Antonio Porchia

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I have scarcely touched the sky and I am made of it.
Antonio Porchia
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When your suffering is a little greater than my suffering I feel that I am a little cruel.
Antonio Porchia
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You know so much about me and yet you don't understand me. To know is not to understand. We could know everything and still not understand anything.
Antonio Porchia
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Man, when he does not grieve, hardly exists.
Antonio Porchia
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My heaviness comes from the heights.
Antonio Porchia
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Humanity does not know where to go because no one is waiting for it: not even God.
Antonio Porchia
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The real it is well is something I say from the ground, having fallen.
Antonio Porchia
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Some things become such a part of us that we forget them.
Antonio Porchia
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Sometimes at night I light a lamp so as not to see.
Antonio Porchia
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Everything that I bear within me bound, is to be found somewhere else free.
Antonio Porchia
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I would ask something more of this world, if it had something more.
Antonio Porchia
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If a fanatic is willing to give his life for a cause, he's probably willing to give yours as well I know what I have given you. I do not know what you have received
Antonio Porchia
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If only I could leave everything as it is, without moving a single star or a single cloud. Oh, if only I could!
Antonio Porchia
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When everything is finished, the mornings are sad.
Antonio Porchia
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My great day came and went, I do not know how. Because it did not pass through dawn when it came, nor through dusk when it went.
Antonio Porchia
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You do not see the river of mourning because it lacks one tear of your own.
Antonio Porchia
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We tear life out of life to use it for looking at itself.
Antonio Porchia
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Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.
Antonio Porchia
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A hundred men together are the hundredth part of a man.
Antonio Porchia
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A thing, until it is everything, is noise, and once it is everything it is silence.
Antonio Porchia