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Descobri que a leitura é uma forma servil de sonhar. Se tenho de sonhar, porque não sonhar os meus próprios sonhos?
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My God, my God, who am I attending to? How many am I? Who is me? What is this interval between me and me?
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I take with me the conscience of defeat as a victory banner.
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Para ser grande, sê inteiro: nadaTeu exagera ou exclui.Sê todo em cada coisa. Põe quanto ésNo mínimo que fazes.Assim em cada lago a lua todaBrilha, porque alta vive.
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Against destiny I fulfilled my duty . Uselessly? No, for I fulfilled it.
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I'm upset by the happiness of all these men who don't know they're unhappy. ... Because of that, though, I love them all. Dear vegetables!
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We are two abysses - a well staring at the sky.
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Tedium is the lack of a mithology. To whom has no beliefs, even doubt is impossible, even skepticism has no strength to suspect.
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His livid face is a bewildered false green. I notice it, between the chest's hard air, with the fraternity of knowing I will also be so.
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It's in an inland sea that the river of my life ended.
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The perfect man of pagans was the perfection of the man there is; the perfect man of christians, the perfection of the man there isn't; the buddhists' perfect man, the perfection of not existing a man.
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I sleep and I unsleep. On the other side of me, beyond where I lie down, the silence of the house touches infinity. I hear time falling, drop by drop, and no falling drop is heard falling.
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We never love someone. We just love the idea we have of someone. It's a concept of ours - summing up, ourselves - that we love.
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Nature is the difference between the soul and God.
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There's a tiredness of abstract intelligence, and it's the most horrible of tirednesses. It doesn't weight on you like the tiredness of the body, nor does it worry you like the tiredness of knowledge and emotion. It's a weightiness of the conscience of the world, an inability of the soul to breathe.
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In order to understand, I destroyed myself.
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My joy is as painful as my pain.
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Who wants to go beyond the Bojador Must go beyond pain.
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Ah, poder ser tu, sendo eu!Ter a tua alegre inconsciência,E a consciência disso!
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My head and the universe ache me.
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Here lies, on the small farthest beach,the Captain of the End.
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It was just a moment, and I saw myself. Then I no longer could say what I was.
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The slope takes you to the windmill, but effort takes you nowhere.
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Nunca amamos ninguém. Amamos, tão-somente, a ideia que fazemos de alguém. É a um conceito nosso – em suma, é a nós mesmos – que amamos.