Clarice Lispector
Clarice Lispector
Clarice Lispectorwas a Brazilian writer acclaimed internationally for her innovative novels and short stories. Born to a Jewish family in Podolia in Western Ukraine, she was brought to Brazil as an infant, amidst the disasters engulfing her native land following the First World War...
NationalityBrazilian
ProfessionWriter
Date of Birth10 December 1920
CountryBrazil
fate destiny choices
The mystery of human destiny is that we are fated, but that we have the freedom to fulfill or not fulfill our fate: realization of our fated destiny depends on us. While inhuman beings like the cockroach realize the entire cycle without going astray because they make no choices.
truth-is wells sincerely
The only truth is that I live. Sincerely, I live. Who am I? Well, that's a bit much.
curiosity answers given
Her curiosity instructed her more than the answers she was given.
world instantaneous
I' is merely one of the world's instantaneous spasms.
eye two darkness
But I welcome the darkness where the two eyes of that soft panther glow. The darkness is my cultural broth. The enchanted darkness. I go on speaking to you, risking disconnection: I’m subterraneously unattainable because of what I know.
want knows
And I want to be held down. I don't know what to do with the horrifying freedom that can destroy me.
reality silence one-day
Reality prior to my language exists as an unthinkable thought. . . . life precedes love, bodily matter precedes the body, and one day in its turn language shall have preceded possession of silence.
answers sometimes do-you-know
Do you know that hope sometimes consists only of a question without an answer?
distance sadness intuition
I want the following word: splendor, splendor is fruit in all its succulence, fruit without sadness. I want vast distances. My savage intuition of myself.
forget strawberries seasons
But don't forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes.
beautiful school knowing
Today at school I wrote an essay about Flag Day which was so beautiful, but ever so beautiful - for I even used words without really knowing what they meant.
horse simple men
A horse is freedom so indominable that it becomes useless to imprison it to serve man: it lets itself be domesticated, but with a simple, rebellious toss of the head-shaking its mane like an abundance of free-flowing hair-it shows that its inner nature is always wild, translucent and free.
want made humans
What I want is to live of that initial and primordial something that was what made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human.
hands ideas joy
Holding someone's hand was always my idea of joy.