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The only truth is that I live. Sincerely, I live. Who am I? Well, that's a bit much.
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
Bits
Truth
Live
Wells
Well
Much
Sincerely
More quotes by Clarice Lispector
You don't understand music: you hear it. So hear me with your whole body.
Clarice Lispector
No it is not easy to write. It is as hard as breaking rocks. Sparks and splinters fly like shattered steel.
Clarice Lispector
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
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
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
My life, the most truthful one, is unrecognizable, extremely interior, and there is no single word that gives it meaning.
Clarice Lispector
I' is merely one of the world's instantaneous spasms.
Clarice Lispector
In the world there exists no aesthetic plane, not even the aesthetic plane of goodness.
Clarice Lispector
I write to save someone's life, probably my own
Clarice Lispector
There it is, the sea, the most incomprehensible of non-human existences.
Clarice Lispector
Ela acreditava em anjo e, porque acreditava, eles existiam | She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed
Clarice Lispector
So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
Clarice Lispector
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
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
I work only with lost and founds.
Clarice Lispector
Everything in the world began with a yes. One molecule said yes to another molecule and life was born.
Clarice Lispector
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
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
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
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.
Clarice Lispector