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And I want to be held down. I don't know what to do with the horrifying freedom that can destroy me.

Clarice Lispector

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Clarice Lispector
Age: 56 †
Born: 1920
Born: December 10
Died: 1977
Died: December 9
Journalist
Model
Novelist
Screenwriter
Translator
Writer
Chechelnik
Helen Palmer
Teresa Quadros
Held
Destroy
Freedom
Horrifying

More quotes by Clarice Lispector

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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.
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And even sadness was also something for rich people, for people who could afford it, for people who didn't have anything better to do. Sadness was a luxury.
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So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
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But I welcome the darkness where the two eyes of that soft panther glow. The darkness is my cultural broth. The enchanted darkness. I go on speaking to you, risking disconnection: I’m subterraneously unattainable because of what I know.
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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.
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My life, the most truthful one, is unrecognizable, extremely interior, and there is no single word that gives it meaning.
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You don't understand music: you hear it. So hear me with your whole body.
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How was she to tie herself to a man without permitting him to imprison her? And was there some means of acquiring things without those things possessing her?
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Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grâce- which is called passion.
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In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.
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And now -- now it only remains for me to light a cigarette and go home. Dear God, only now am I remembering that people die. Does that include me? Don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.
Clarice Lispector
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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.
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Do you know that hope sometimes consists only of a question without an answer?
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No it is not easy to write. It is as hard as breaking rocks. Sparks and splinters fly like shattered steel.
Clarice Lispector
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Facts and particulars annoy me.
Clarice Lispector
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I want the following word: splendor, splendor is fruit in all its succulence, fruit without sadness. I want vast distances. My savage intuition of myself.
Clarice Lispector
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The only truth is that I live. Sincerely, I live. Who am I? Well, that's a bit much.
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The mystery of human destiny is that we are fated, but that we have the freedom to fulfill or not fulfill our fate: realization of our fated destiny depends on us. While inhuman beings like the cockroach realize the entire cycle without going astray because they make no choices.
Clarice Lispector
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I hear the mad song of a little bird and crush butterflies between my fingers.
Clarice Lispector
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I write to save someone's life, probably my own
Clarice Lispector