406 Quotes by Clarice Lispector

The world had reclaimed its own reality, and, just like after a catastrophe, my culture had ended: I was merely a historical fact. Everything in me had been reclaimed by the beginning of time and by my own beginning. I had passed on to a first, primary plane, I was in the silence of the winds and in the age of tin and copper – at the first age of life.

But don’t forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.

Never again shall I understand anything I say. Since how could I speak without the word lying for me? How could I speak except timidly like this: life just is for me. Life just is for me, and I don’t understand what I’m saying. And so I adore it.

If the twinkling of the stars pains me, if this distant communication is possible, it is because something almost like a star quivers within me.

Here I am ready for life! Dear sirs, no one’s looking at me, no one realises I exist! Yet, dear sirs, I exist, I swear that I exist! Very much, even. Look, all of you, with that triumphant attitude, look: I can vibrate, vibrate like the taunt of a harp. I can suffer with more intensity than any of you, gentleman. I am superior. And do you know why? Because I know I exist!

But now I want to say things that comfort me and that are a little free. For example: Thursdat is a day transparent as an insect’s wing in the light. Just as Monday is a compact day. Ultimately, far beyond thought, I live from these ideas, if ideas is what they are. They are sensations that transform into ideas because I must use words. Even just using them mentally. The primary thought thinks with words.

The terrible duty is that of going all the way to the end. And without relying on anyone. To live oneself.

Once in a while, groundless melancholy would darken my face, a dull and incomprehensible nostalgia for times never experienced would invade me.

The only truth is that I live. Sincerely, I live. Who am I? Well, that’s a bit much.