Fernando Pessoa

The Book of Disquiet

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    Anna Mezhovahas quoted7 years ago
    Today, during one of those periods of daydreaming which, though devoid of either purpose or dignity, still constitute the greater part of the spiritual substance of my life, I imagined myself free forever of Rua dos Douradores, of my boss Vasques, of Moreira the book-keeper, of all the other employees, the errand boy, the post boy, even the cat. In dreams, that freedom felt to me as if the South Seas had proffered up a gift of marvellous islands as yet undiscovered. Freedom would mean rest, artistic achievement, the intellectual fulfilment of my being.
    But suddenly, even as I imagined this (during the brief holiday afforded by my lunch break), a feeling of displeasure erupted into the dream: I would be sad. Yes, I say it quite seriously: I would be sad. For my boss Vasques, Moreira the book-keeper, Borges the cashier, all the lads, the cheery boy who takes the letters to the post office, the errand boy, the friendly cat - they have all become part of my life. I could never leave all that behind without weeping, without realizing, however displeasing the thought, that part of me would remain with them and that losing them would be akin to death.
    Moreover, if I left them all tomorrow and discarded this Rua dos Douradores suit of clothes I wear, what else would I do? Because I would have to do something. And what suit would I wear? Because I would have to wear another suit.
    Typicalhas quoted7 years ago
    the voice of one who hopes for nothing because all hope is vain
    Anna Mezhovahas quoted7 years ago
    It rains and rains. My soul grows damp just listening to it.
    Anna Mezhovahas quoted7 years ago
    To live is to be other. Even feeling is impossible if one feels today what one felt yesterday, for that is not to feel, it is only to remember today what one felt yesterday, to be the living corpse of yesterday’s lost life.
    To wipe everything off the slate from one day to the next, to be new with each new dawn, in a state of perpetually restored virginity of emotion - that and only that is worth being or having, if we are to be or to have what we imperfectly are.
    Anna Mezhovahas quoted7 years ago
    The life I drag around with me until night falls is not dissimilar to that of the streets themselves. By day they are full of meaningless bustle and by night full of an equally meaningless lack of bustle. By day I am nothing, by night I am myself. There is no difference between me and the streets around the Alfândega, except that they are streets and I am a human soul, and this, when weighed against the essence of all things, might also count for little. Men and objects share a common abstract destiny: to be of equally insignificant value in the algebra of life’s mystery.
    asanisimasalaithas quoted7 years ago
    infinite no one can escape you!
    Jeanelle Clarkehas quoted3 years ago
    today is not yesterday. Each day is the day it is, and there will never be another like it in the world.
    jackieadygahas quoted4 years ago
    Nostalgia! I feel it even for someone who meant nothing to me, out of anxiety for the flight of time and a sickness bred of the mystery of life. If one of the faces I pass daily on the streets disappears, I feel sad; yet they meant nothing to me, other than being a symbol of all life.
    jackieadygahas quoted4 years ago
    Art, which offers relief from life without actually relieving one of living, and which is as monotonous as life itself but in a different way.
    jackieadygahas quoted4 years ago
    for poetry and literature to remain simply butterflies that alight on my head and merely underline my own ridiculousness by their very beauty.
    jackieadygahas quoted4 years ago
    the riffraff who believed they were geniuses when in fact they were just beggars with dreams, mixing with the anonymous mass of people who had neither the strength to triumph nor the power to turn their defeats into victories.
    jackieadygahas quoted4 years ago
    the monotony of my daily life will be like the memory of loves that never came my way and of triumphs that were never to be mine.
    jackieadygahas quoted4 years ago
    Freedom would mean rest, artistic achievement, the intellectual fulfilment of my being.
    jackieadygahas quoted4 years ago
    my dreams move to the rhythm required by long journeys to countries as yet unknown, or to countries that are simply hypothetical or impossible.
    Mathias Frank Holmquisthas quoted4 years ago
    Today is one of those days when the monotony of everything closes about me as if I had just entered a prison. That monotony,
    however, is just the monotony of being me. Each face, even if it belongs to someone we saw only yesterday, is different today simply because today is not yesterday. Each day is the day it is, and there will never be another like it in the world.
    asasiprhas quoted4 years ago
    But what is certain is that he had a soul, enough soul to kill himself. Passions? Worries? Of course
    asasiprhas quoted4 years ago
    If only one could notice everything for the first time, not apocalyptically, as if they were revelations of the Mystery, but directly as the flowerings of Reality
    asasiprhas quoted4 years ago
    I thought I was just seeing and listening, that in my idle wanderings I was nothing but a reflector of received images, a white screen onto which reality projected colours and light instead of shadows. But, though I was unaware of it, I was more than that. I was still my self-denying soul, and my own abstract observation of the street was in itself a denial
    asasiprhas quoted4 years ago
    The life I drag around with me until night falls is not dissimilar to that of the streets themselves. By day they are full of meaningless bustle and by night full of an equally meaningless lack of bustle. By day I am nothing, by night I am myself. There is no difference between me and the streets around the Alfândega, except that they are streets and I am a human soul, and this, when weighed against the essence of all things, might also count for little
    asasiprhas quoted4 years ago
    Because I am nothing, I can imagine myself to be anything. If I were somebody, I wouldn’t be able to. An assistant book-keeper can imagine himself to be a Roman emperor; the King of England can’t do that, because the King of England has lost the ability in his dreams to be any other king than the one he is. His reality limits what he can feel.
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