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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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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
Crush
Mad
Fingers
Bird
Hear
Song
Littles
Butterflies
Little
Butterfly

More quotes by Clarice Lispector

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Do you ever suddenly find it strange to be yourself?
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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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In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.
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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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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.
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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.
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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.
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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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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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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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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 write to save someone's life, probably my own
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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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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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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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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I write and that way rid myself of me and then at last I can rest.
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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Her curiosity instructed her more than the answers she was given.
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