Fernando Pessoa Quotes
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If we knew the truth, we'd see it; all else is system and outskirts.
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I never cared about whatever tragic event happened in China. It's faraway decoration, even if in blood and plague.
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They were two and beautiful and wanted to be something else; love delayed itself to them in the tedium of the future, and regret of what would happen to be was already being the daughter of the love they hadn't had.
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In today's life, the world belongs only to the stupid, the insensitive and the agitated. The right to live and triumph is now conquered almost by the same means by which you conquer internment in an asylum: the inability to think, amorality and hiperexcitation.
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The superiority of the dreamer is that dreaming is much more practical than living, and that the dreamer extracts from life a much vaster and varied pleasure than the action man. In better and more direct words, the dreamer is the real action man.
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I don't write in Portuguese. I write myself.
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Solitude desolates me; company oppresses me.
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O meu passado é tudo quanto não consegui ser.
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Some sensations are sleeps that take up all the extent of the mind like a fog, don't let us think, don't let us act, don't let us be clearly.
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I will be what I want. But I will have to want what I'll be. Success is in having success, not conditions for success.
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What is a disease is wishing with an equal intensity what is needed and what is desirable, and suffer for not being perfect as you would suffer for not having bread. The romantic error is this wanting the moon as if there was a way to get it.
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Irony is the first hint that consciousness became conscious.
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I think of life as an inn where I have to stay until the abyss coach arrives. I don't know where it will take me, for I know nothing.
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I always live in the present. The future I can't know. The past I no longer have.
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The consciousness of life's unconsciousness is intelligence's oldest tax.
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To have defined and sure opinions, fixed and known instincts, passions and character - all that is the horror of turning our soul into a fact, materialize it and make it external.
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I will necessarily say what it seems to me, given that I'm me.
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What would happen to the world if we were human?
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Inside the henhouse from where he will be taken to be killed, the cock sings hymns to liberty because he was given two perches.
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Between me and life is a faint glass. No matter how sharply I see and understand life, I cannot touch it.