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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

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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
Long
Dead
Kind
Somebody
Life
Probably
Write
Death
Makes
Live
Madness
Writing
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More quotes by Clarice Lispector

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All the world began with a yes. One molecule said yes to another molecule and life was born. But before prehistory there was the prehistory of the prehistory and there was the never and there was the yes. It was ever so. I don’t know why, but I do know that the universe never began. Make no mistake, I only achieve simplicity with enormous effort.
Clarice Lispector
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Who has not asked himself at some time or other: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?
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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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.
Clarice Lispector
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Do you ever suddenly find it strange to be yourself?
Clarice Lispector
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Facts and particulars annoy me.
Clarice Lispector
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Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grâce- which is called passion.
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.
Clarice Lispector
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I' is merely one of the world's instantaneous spasms.
Clarice Lispector
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Love is so much more deadly than I had thought, love is so much inherent as the very lack, and we are guaranteed by a need to be renewed continuously. Love is now, is forever. There is just the blow of grace - call it passion.
Clarice Lispector
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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.
Clarice Lispector
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So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
Clarice Lispector
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I work only with lost and founds.
Clarice Lispector
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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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I write and that way rid myself of me and then at last I can rest.
Clarice Lispector
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Do you know that hope sometimes consists only of a question without an answer?
Clarice Lispector
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Ela acreditava em anjo e, porque acreditava, eles existiam | She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed
Clarice Lispector
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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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There it is, the sea, the most incomprehensible of non-human existences.
Clarice Lispector
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Her curiosity instructed her more than the answers she was given.
Clarice Lispector