Pablo > Pablo's Quotes

“The fury of a demon instantly possessed me. I knew myself no longer. My original soul seemed, at once, to take its flight from my body; and a more than fiendish malevolence, gin-nurtured, thrilled every fibre of my frame.”
― Edgar Allan Poe, The Black Cat

“-Es curioso que uno no pueda estar sin encariñarse con algo. Es como si la mente segregara sentimiento sin parar...
-¿Vos creés?
-... lo mismo que el estómago segrega jugo para digerir.”
― Manuel Puig, Kiss of the Spider Woman

“The nicest thing about feeling happy is that you think you'll never be unhappy again.

”
― Manuel Puig, Kiss of the Spider Woman and Two Other Plays

“Estoy tan solo como este gato, y mucho más solo porque lo sé y él no.”
― Julio Cortázar, Las armas secretas

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"— here I opened wide the door; —
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" —
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore —
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning— little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore.”
― Edgar Allan Poe, The Raven

“-¿Ya murió? ¿Y de qué?
-No supe de qué. Tal vez de tristeza. Suspiraba mucho.
-Eso es malo. Cada suspiro es como un sorbo de vida del que uno se deshace.”
― Juan Rulfo, Pedro Páramo

“En el alma de los hombres que viven solos siempre hay algo que les gustaría contar.”
― Anton Chekhov, Cuentos imprescindibles

“la tristeza alivia y es rica”
― Andrés Caicedo, ¡Que viva la música!

“- ¿Qué te pasa? -, y él - Nada, es que mi temperamento es difícil como un cambio de melodía de Ricardo Ray-”
― Andrés Caicedo, ¡Que viva la música!

“La música es cada uno de esos pedacitos que antes tuve en mí y los fui desprendiendo al azar. Yo estoy ante una cosa y pienso en miles. La música es la solución a lo que yo no enfrento, mientras pierdo el tiempo mirando la cosa: un libro (en los que ya no puedo avanzar dos páginas), el sesgo de una falda, de una reja. La música es también, recobrado, el tiempo que yo pierdo.”
― Andrés Caicedo, ¡Que viva la música!

“Tú, haz aún más intensos los años de niñez recargándolos con la experiencia del adulto. Liga la corrupción a tu frescura de niño. Atraviesa verticalmente todas las posibilidades de la precocidad. Ya pagarás el precio: a los 19 años no tendrás sino cansancio en la mirada, agotada la capacidad de emoción y disminuida la fuerza del trabajo. Entonces bienvenida sea la dulce muerte fijada de antemano. Adelántate a la muerte, precísale una cita. Nadie quiere a los niños envejecidos. Sólo tú comprendes que enredaste los años para malgastar y los años de la reflexión en una sola torcida actividad intensa. Viviste al mismo tiempo el avance y la reversa.”
― Andrés Caicedo, ¡Que viva la música!

“To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.”
― Oscar Wilde, An Ideal Husband

“It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.”
― Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan

“In this world there are only two tragedies. One is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it. (Mr. Dumby, Act III)”
― Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan

“Ah! The strength of women comes from the fact that psychology cannot explain us. Men can be analyzed, women...merely adored.”
― Oscar Wilde, An Ideal Husband

“Never mind what I say. I am always saying what I shouldn't say. In fact, I usually say what I really think. A great mistake nowadays. It makes one so liable to be misunderstood.”
― Oscar Wilde, An Ideal Husband

“Even you are not rich enough, Sir Robert, to buy back your past. No man is”
― Oscar Wilde, An Ideal Husband

“It is not the perfect, but the imperfect, who have need of love.
It is when we are wounded by our own hands that love should come to cure us.
Else what use is love at all?”
― Oscar Wilde, An Ideal Husband