Frederico

“While on the one hand," he said, "our most prominent scientists, the inexhaustible heroes of this perennial confusion, have finally and somewhat unfortunately extricated themselves from the metaphor of godhead, they have immediately fallen into the trap of regarding this oppressive history as some kind of triumphant march, a supernatural progress following, what they call, the victory of 'will and intellect', and though, as you know, I am no longer capable of being the least surprised by this, I must confess to you I still cannot understand why it should be the cause of such universal celebration for them that we have climbed out of the trees. Do they think it's good like this? I find nothing amusing in it. Furthermore it doesn't fit us properly: you only have to consider how long, even after thousands of years of practice, we can keep going on two legs. Half a day, my dear friend, and we shouldn't forget it.”
― László Krasznahorkai, The Melancholy of Resistance

“First there was nothing. Nothing but a frayed strip of cement over the white earth. Then she made out two mountains colliding in the back of beyond: like they'd come from who knows where and were headed to anyone's guess but had come together at that intense point in the nothingness and insisted on crashing noisily against each other, though the oblivious might think they simply stood there in silence.”
― Yuri Herrera, Signs Preceding the End of the World

“Eu conheci esse pedaço do belo Belorizonte, nele padeci, esperei, amei, tive dores-de-corno augustas, discuti e neguei. Conhecia todo mundo. Cada pedra nas calçadas, cada tijolo nas sargetas, seus bueiros, os postes, as ávores. Distinguia seus odores e suas cores de todas as horas. Seu sol, sua chuva, seus calores e seu frio. Ali vivi dos meus dezessete aos meus vinte e quatro anos. Vinte anos nos anos Vinte. Sete anos que valeram pelos que tinha vivido antes e que viveria depois. Hoje, aqueles sete anos, eles só, existem na minha memória.”
― Pedro Nava, Beira-mar

“E quando vi, o tal professor abotoou o paletó e saiu depressa. Eu estava de costas para aporta, olhando para Seu Chamun, interessado na reação dele, e tive a impressão de que a sombra do professor se elevava no espaço. Não me interessei em tirar a limpo porque já estou cansado de ver gente voando.”
― José J. Veiga, Sombras de Reis Barbudos