Jorge Luis Borges
Jorge Luis Borges
Jorge Francisco Isidoro Luis Borges KBE; 24 August 1899 – 14 June 1986), was an Argentine short-story writer, essayist, poet and translator, and a key figure in Spanish-language literature. His best-known books, Ficcionesand El Aleph, published in the 1940s, are compilations of short stories interconnected by common themes, including dreams, labyrinths, libraries, mirrors, fictional writers, philosophy, and religion...
NationalityArgentinian
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth24 August 1899
pride pages boast
Let others pride themselves about how many pages they have written; I'd rather boast about the ones I've read.
writing laziness products
A writer's work is the product of laziness.
heaven may hell
May Heaven exist, even if my place is Hell.
evil spheres ethics
One concept corrupts and confuses the others. I am not speaking of the Evil whose limited sphere is ethics; I am speaking of the infinite.
nature book reading
I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.
loneliness writing dreamer
A writer needs loneliness, and he gets his share of it. He needs love, and he gets shared and also unshared love. He needs friendship. In fact, he needs the universe. To be a writer is, in a sense, to be a day-dreamer - to be living a kind of double life.
twilight feelings want
Music, feelings of happiness, mythology, faces worn by time, certain twilights and certain places, want to tell us something, or they told us something that we should not have missed, or they are about to tell us something; this imminence of a revelation that is not produced is, perhaps, 'the aesthetic event'.
memories night thinking
I cannot walk through the suburbs in the solitude of the night without thinking that the night pleases us because it suppresses idle details, just as our memory does.
memories men eden
Man's memory shapes Its own Eden within
beautiful falling-in-love why-not
I have preferred to teach my students not English literature but my love for certain authors, or, even better, certain pages, or even better than that, certain lines. One falls in love with a line, then with a page, then with an author. Well, why not? It is a beautiful process.
mirrors saws earth
I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me.
mirrors fatherhood illusion
The visible universe was an illusion or, more precisely, a sophism. Mirrors and fatherhood are abominable because they multiply it and extend it.
dream mind world
The mind was dreaming. The world was its dream.
sin worst committed
I have committed the worst of sins one can commit... I have not been happy.