Quotes by Spanish Authors - Page 12

Life is mysterious as well as vulgar.
Roberto Bolaño
I do not wish to talk about myself because I hold very deeply the belief that what is important is the work, not the person.
Remedios Varo
There is wisdom in turning as often as possible from the familiar to the unfamiliar: it keeps the mind nimble, it kills prejudice, and it fosters humor.
George Santayana
I don't know what I'm doing in Santa Teresa," Amalfitano said to himself after he'd been living in the city for a week."Don't you? Don't you really?" he asked himself."Really I don't," he said to himself. And that was as eloquent as he could be.
Roberto Bolaño
Every once in a while, large cities have narrow streets, silent passageways that allow your footsteps to echo in the stillness of the night, and it seems like everything is going back to the way it was, when there were only a few of us and we all knew each other and greeted each other on the street.
Jaume Cabré
When he stepped into the shower, the hit water scalded him. He let it run over his face, burning his eyelids. He put up with the pain, his jaw clenched and his muscles taut, suppressing the urge to howl with loneliness in the suffocating steam. For four years, one month, and twelve days, Nikon always got into the shower with him after they made love and soaped his back slowly, interminably. And often she put her arms around him, like a little girl in the rain. One day I'll leave without ever really knowing you. You'll remember my big, dark eyes. The reproachful silences. The moans of anxiety as I slept. The nightmares you couldn't save me from. You'll remember all this when I'm gone.
Arturo Pérez-Reverte
When he stepped into the shower, the hot water scalded him. He let it run over his face, burning his eyelids. He put up with the pain, his jaw clenched and his muscles taut, suppressing the urge to howl with loneliness in the suffocating steam. For four years, one month, and twelve days, Nikon always got into the shower with him after they made love and soaped his back slowly, interminably. And often she put her arms around him, like a little girl in the rain. One day I'll leave without ever really knowing you. You'll remember my big, dark eyes. The reproachful silences. The moans of anxiety as I slept. The nightmares you couldn't save me from. You'll remember all this when I'm gone.
Arturo Pérez-Reverte
Over time, loneliness gets inside you and doesn't go away.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
All that work: his generous patronage of the arts, the vast sums of money he had donated to worthy causes, setting up charitable organizations . . . for what? In the end, none of those good works had redeemed him in the eyes of others. People think that men like me give money away to buy forgiveness for a sin or out of vanity, when it's the winner's pathetic tribute to the loser. Look at me, we seem to be begging, I need you too. I need you to accept me, to admire me, to love me.
Carmen Posadas
I'd like to live as a poor man with lots of money.
Pablo Picasso
No matter where we come from, a little sugar is what everybody demands in life, what everybody needs in life. It's perhaps the main ingredient that keeps us alive.
Merce Cardus
In music, in the sea, in a flower, in a leaf, in an act of kindness... I see what people call God in all these things.
Pablo Casals
Every self-respecting act of persuasion must find appeal to curiosity, then to vanity, and lastly to kindness or remorse. Isabella looked down and slowly nodded.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
I feel the capacity to care is the thing which gives life its deepest significance.
Pablo Casals
If our church is not marked by caring for the poor, the oppressed, the hungry, we are guilty of heresy.
Ignatius of Loyola
Don't judge without having heard both sides. Even persons who think themselves virtuous very easily forget this elementary rule of prudence.
Josemaría Escrivá
Teach me your way of looking at people:as you glanced at Peter after his denial,as you penetrated the heart of the rich young manand the hearts of your disciples.I would like to meet you as you really are,since your image changes those with whom you come into contact.Remember John the Baptist’s first meeting with you?And the centurion’s feeling of unworthiness?And the amazement of all those who saw miracles and other wonders?How you impressed your disciples,the rabble in the Garden of Olives,Pilate and his wifeand the centurion at the foot of the cross. . . .I would like to hear and be impressedby your manner of speaking,listening, for example, to your discourse in the synagogue in Capharnaumor the Sermon on the Mount where your audience felt you “taught as one who has authority.
Pedro Arrupe
Anyway, these ideas or feelings or ramblings had their satisfactions. They turned the pain of others into memories of one’s own. They turned pain, which is natural, enduring, and eternally triumphant, into personal memory, which is human, brief, and eternally elusive. They turned a brutal story of injustice and abuse, an incoherent howl with no beginning or end, into a neatly structured story in which suicide was always held out as a possibility. They turned flight into freedom, even if freedom meant no more than the perpetuation of flight. They turned chaos into order, even if it was at the cost of what is commonly known as sanity.
Roberto Bolaño
I think of the memory as being rather like a dam," he said, after a pause for thought. "It irrigates and gives life to our whole spirit. But, like a dam, it needs overflow channels if it's not to burst its banks. Because if it ever does overflow or burst, its waters will destroy everything in its path.
Bernardo Atxaga
Nothing feeds forgetfulness better than war, Daniel. We all keep quiet and they try to convince us that what we've seen, what we've done, what we've learned about ourselves and about others, is an illusion, a passing nightmare. Wars have no memory, and nobody has the courage to understand them until there are no voices left to tell what happened, until the moment comes when we no longer recognize them and they return, with another face and another name, to devour what they left behind.p. 428
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
as long as we are being remembered, we remain alive
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Memory is not only unruly, leaving us in the lurch when most needed, but stupid as well, putting its nose into places where it is not wanted.
Baltasar Gracián
He would have liked to know that somebody wanted to keep him alive, that someone remembered him. He used to say that we exist as long as somebody remembers us.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
However great your dedication, you never win anything on your own
Rafael Nadal
Most startups eventually pivot to adjust to what the market is telling them.
Alejandro Cremades
She influenced by the positivism of her race, was gazing into the future. While he was content with the present moment, not caring to know what would be the end of their love
Vicente Blasco Ibáñez
Harness the imagination: Sometimes curbing her, sometimes giving her rein, for she is the whole of happiness. She sets to rights even the understanding. She sinks to tyranny, not satisfied with mere faith, but demanding works. Thus she becomes the mistress of life itself. She does so with pleasure or with pain, according to the nonsense presented. She makes people contented or discontented with themselves. By dangling before some nothing but the specter of their eternal suffering, she becomes the scourge of these fools. To others she shows nothing but fortune and romance, while merrily laughing. Of all this she is capable if not held in check by the wisest of wills.
Baltasar Gracián
As inexplicable as the accidents that set it off, our imagination is a crucial privilege. I've tried my whole life simply to accept the images that present themselves to me without trying to analyze them. I remember when we were shooting That Obscure Object of Desire in Seville and I suddenly found myself telling Fernando Rey, at the end of a scene, to pick up a big sack filled with tools lying on a bench, sling it over his shoulder, and walk away. The action was completely irrational, yet it seemed absolutely right to me. Still, I was worried about it, so I shot two versions of the scene: one with the sack, one without. But during the rushes the following day, the whole crew agreed that the scene was much better with the sack. Why? I can't explain it, and I don't enjoy rummaging around in the cliches of psychoanalysis.
Luis Buñuel
Nine-tenths of that which is attributed to sexuality is the work of our magnificent ability to imagine, which is no longer an instinct, but exactly the opposite: a creation.
José Ortega y Gasset
Merrick belonged to that class of reader who was able to forget with amazing ease the hand moving the characters behind the scenes of the novel.
Félix J. Palma
Normality wasn't in the days I'd left behind me: it was only to be found in whatever fortune placed in my path each morning.
María Dueñas
My mother's death supervened, and this was the greatest blow I had experienced in my life. I worshipped her... I could not resign myself to the loss of a being on whom I counted to make invisible the unavoidable blemishes of my soul.
Salvador Dalí
1I smiled bitterly, a defeated man pitifully begging a God in whom he had never trusted.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Without further ado I left the place, finding my route by the marks I had made on the way in. As I walked in the dark through the tunnels and tunnels of books, I could not help being overcome by a sense of sadness. I couldn't help thinking that if I, by pure chance, had found a whole universe in a single unknown book, buried in that endless necropolis, tens of thousands more would remain unexplored, forgotten forever. I felt myself surrounded by millions of abandoned pages, by worlds and souls without an owner sinking in an ocean of darkness, while the world that throbbed outside the library seemed to be losing its memory, day after day, unknowingly, feeling all the wiser the more it forgot.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Those places where sadness and misery abound are favoured settings for stories of ghosts and apparitions. Calcutta has countless such stories hidden in its darkness, stories that nobody wants to admit they believe but which nevertheless survive in the memory of generations as the only chronicle of the past. It is as if the people who inhabit the streets, inspired by some mysterious wisdom, relalise that the true history of Calcutta has always been written in the invisible tales of its spirits and unspoken curses.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
He would roam about the world carrying his recollections with him, and perhaps some day he would come to forget them, for one can live only by forgetting; but when his grief should dissolve with the years he would be left an empty man, like a smiling automaton, incapable of any affections other than meterial ones.
Vicente Blasco Ibáñez
I wandered off, walking through streets that seemed emptier than ever, thinking that if I didn't stop, if I kept on walking, I wouldn't notice that the world I thought I knew was no longer there.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
...until that moment I had not understood that this was a story about lonely people, about absence and loss, and that that was why I had taken refuge in it until it became confused with my own life, like someone who has escaped into the pages of a novel because those whom he needs to love seem nothing more than ghosts inhabiting the mind of a stranger.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
I forgave her many years ago ... It's she who blames herself, but she can't see that. It's easier to project blame into the eyes of others and defend yourself against that than to find it within yourself, where there's no possible defense.
Natalia Sanmartín Fenollera
The past doesn't exist. There is nothing to be sorry for. Today is when we start to live. Look... look at the sea. The sea has no past. It is just there. It will never ask us to explain. The stars, the moon are there to light our way, to shine for us. What do they care what might have happened in the past? They are accompanying us, and are happy with that; can you see them shine? The stars are twinkling in the sky; would they do that if the past mattered? Wouldn't there be a huge storm if God wanted to punish us? We are alone, you and I, with no past, no memories, no guilt, nothing that can stand in the way of... our love.
Ildefonso Falcones
Never trust he who trusts everyone.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
Never trust anyone, Daniel, especially the people you admire. Those are the ones who will make you suffer the worst blows.
Carlos Ruiz Zafón
To meditate is to sail a course, to navigate, among problems many of which we are in the process of clearing up. After each one looms another, whose shores are even more attractive, more suggestive. Certainly, it requires strength and perseverance to get to windward of problems, but there is no greater delight than to reach new shores, and even to sail, as Camoëns says, “through seas that keel has never cut before.” If you will now open a bank-account of attention for me, I foretell sun-smitten landscapes and promise archipelagoes.
José Ortega y Gasset
Watchfulness is the path of immortality:Unwatchfulness is the path of death.Those who are watchful never die:Those who do not watch are already as dead.Those who with a clear mind have seen this truth,Those who are wise and ever watchful,They feel the joy of watchfulness,The joy of the path of the great.And those who in high thought and in deep contemplationWith ever living power advance on the path,They in the end reach NIRVANA,The peace supreme and infinite joy.~ Buddha
Juan Mascaró
The wisest mind hath something yet to learn.
George Santayana
When you know something, you know it, and when you don't, you'd better learn. And in the meantime, you should keep quiet, or at least speak only when what you say will advance the learning process.
Roberto Bolaño
I have a tendency to want to understand everything people say and everything I hear, both at work and outside, even at a distance, even if it’s one of the innumerable languages I don’t know, even if it’s in an indistinguishable murmur or imperceptible whisper, even if it would be better that I didn’t understand and what’s said is not intended for my ears or is said precisely so I won’t understand it.
Javier Marías
We have eyelids but not earlids, for the ears are the portals of learning, and Nature wanted to keep them wide open.
Baltasar Gracián
Deal with people from whom you can learn
Baltasar Gracián
I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn how to do it.
Pablo Picasso
I do believe that some humans have more amazing lives than others–above all, those who don’t sit down in a chair like mere spectators letting their lives happen in front of them, but they take risks as heroes do, experiencing, living, becoming the main character—but no matter what, we all have at least one story to tell.
Merce Cardus
A proverb is a short sentence based on long experience.
Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
Living in a world: where to be born, is a mere by mention. To be living, a story. Then to die, our eternal; restart!
Stb Hernández
God is the only one who listens to her... she is the prototype of the devout woman who perseveres in prayer, convinced that it will be heard... How many favours each of us could tell of if we recalled with gratitude the gifts we have received in order to praise God for them!
University of Navarra
Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all I have and call my own. You have given all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. Everything is yours; do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me.
Ignatius of Loyola
With respect also to spiritual sloth, beginners are apt to be irked by the things that are most spiritual, from which they flee because these things are incompatible with sensible pleasure. For, as they are so much accustomed to sweetness in spiritual things, they are wearied by things in which they find no sweetness. If once they failed to find in prayer the satisfaction which their taste required (and after all it is well that God should take it from them to prove them), they would prefer not to return to it: sometimes they leave it; at other times they continue it unwillingly. And thus because of this sloth they abandon the way of perfection (which is the way of the negation of their will and pleasure for God's sake) for the pleasure and sweetness of their own will, which they aim at satisfying in this way rather than the will of God.And many of these would have God will that which they themselves will, and are fretful at having to will that which He wills, and find it repugnant to accommodate their will to that of God. Hence it happens to them that oftentimes they think that that wherein they find not their own will and pleasure is not the will of God; and that, on the other hand, when they themselves find satisfaction, God is satisfied. Thus they measure God by themselves and not themselves by God, acting quite contrarily to that which He Himself taught in the Gospel, saying: That he who should lose his will for His sake, the same should gain it; and he who should desire to gain it, the same should lose it.
San Juan de la Cruz
The second cause whence these rebellions sometimes proceed is the devil, who, in order to disquiet and disturb the soul, at times when it is at prayer or is striving to pray, contrives to stir up these motions of impurity in its nature; and if the soul gives heed to any of these, they cause it great harm. For through fear of these not only do persons become lax in prayer—which is the aim of the devil when he begins to strive with them—but some give up prayer altogether, because they think that these things attack them more during that exercise than apart from it, which is true, since the devil attacks them then more than at other times, so that they may give up spiritual exercises.
San Juan de la Cruz
At the bar on the Favoritenstrasse, Julius the policeman talked to us about dignity, evolution, the great Darwin and the great Nietzsche. I translated so that my good friend Ulises could understand what he was saying, although I didn’t understand any of it. The prayer of the bones, said Julius. The yearning for health. The virtue of danger. The tenacity of the forgotten. Bravo, said my good friend Ulises. Bravo, said everyone else. The limits of memory. The wisdom of plants. The eye of parasites. The agility of the earth. The merit of the soldier. The cunning of the giant. The hole of the will. Magnificent, said my good friend Ulises in German. Extraordinary.
Roberto Bolaño
Lord, teach me to be generous;Teach me to serve you as you deserve;To give and not to count the cost;To fight and not to heed the wounds;To toil, and not to seek for rest;To labor, and not to ask for reward - except to know that I am doing your will.
Ignatius of Loyola
Depression is rage spread thin.
George Santayana