Flight from reality. Farther still: flight from fantasy. Farther than anything: flight from oneself, flight from flight, exile without water or words, the voluntary loss of love and memory, — Carlos Drummond de Andrade, from “Lesser Life,” Multitudinous Heart: Selected Poems, transl. by Richard Zenith (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2015) Advertisements
A time comes when death doesn’t help. A time comes when life is an order. Just life, without any escapes. — Carlos Drummond de Andrade, “Your Shoulders Hold Up the World,” The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry (translated by Mark Strand)
At every moment of our lives, we all have one foot in a fairy tale and the other in the abyss. ― Paulo Coelho
Perhaps love is to give one’s own solitude to others? For it is the very last thing we have to offer. — Clarice Lispector, from “The Gift,” Selected Crônicas. (New Directions, November 17, 1996)
I want shade, I want shade and anonymity. — Clarice Lispector, from “The Departure,” The Complete Stories. (New Directions; Reprint edition, July 31, 2015)
I am the one listening to the whistling in the dark. I who am sick with the human condition. — Clarice Lispector, Água Viva/The Stream of Life. Translated by Elizabeth Lowe. (University of Minnesota Press; 1st edition June 28, 1989) Originally published 1973.
That is why I write – to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance. ― Paulo Coelho, By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept. (Harper Perennial; Tra edition May 23, 2006) Originally published 1994.