Cesare Pavese Quotes
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But the real, tremendous truth is this: suffering serves no purpose whatever.
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A love thought: I love you so much that I could wish I had been born your brother, or had brought you into the world myself.
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Reality is a prison, where one vegetates and always will...
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It is not that things happen to each of us according to his fate, but that he interprets what has happened, if he has power to do so, according to his sense of his own destiny.
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Every luxury must be paid for, and everything is a luxury, starting with being in this world.
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Narrating incredible things as though they were real old system; narrating realities as though they were incredible the new.
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When writing poetry, it is not that produces a bright idea, but the bright idea that kindles the fire of.
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Work alone isn't enough for me and mine; we know how to break our backs, but the great dream Of my fathers was to be good at doing nothing.
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We do not free ourselves from something by avoiding it, but only by living though it.
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There is only one pleasure - that of being alive. All the rest is misery.
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The art of living is the art of knowing how to believe lies. The fearful thing about it is that, not knowing what truth may be, we can still recognize lies.
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Here's the difficulty about suicide: it is an act of ambition that can be committed only when one has passed beyond ambition.
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Generations do not age. Every youth of any period, any civilization, has the same possibilities as always.
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Perfect behavior is born of complete indifference. Perhaps this is why we always love madly someone who treats us with indifference.
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One stops being a child when one realizes that telling one's trouble does not make it any better.
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What is to come will emerge only after long suffering, long silence.
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We like to have work to do, so as to have the right to rest.
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I've discovered nothing. but do you remember how much we talked when we were boys? We talked just for the fun of it. We knew very well it was only talk, but still we enjoyed it.
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What we desire is not to possess a woman, but to be the only one to possess her.
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The art of living is the art of knowing how to believe lies.
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All our "most sacred affections " are merely prosaic habit.
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When you dream, you are an author, but you do not know how it will end.
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Remember, writing poetry is like making love: one will never know whether one's own pleasure is shared.
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We do not remember days, we remember moments.