Connie’s Reviews > Zorba the Greek > Status Update
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Connie
is on page 308 of 319
"I nearly wept. All that Zorba said was true. As a child I had been full of mad ímpulses, superhuman desires, I was not content with the world. Gradually, as time went by, I grew calmer. I set limits, separated the possible from the impossible, the human from the divine, I held my kite tightly, so that it should not escape."
— 23 hours, 48 min ago
Connie
is on page 286 of 319
"Alone by the dying fïre, I weighed Zorba's words—they were rich in meaning and had a warm earthy smell. You felt they came up from the depths of his being and that they still had a human warmth. My words were made of paper. They came down from my head, scarcely splashed by a spot of blood. If they had any value at all it was to that mere spot of blood they owed it."
— 23 hours, 57 min ago
Connie
is on page 286 of 319
"Listen, little one: neither the seven storeys of heaven nor the seven storeys of the earth are enough to contain God; but a man's heart can contain him. So be very careful, Alexis—and may my blessing go with you—never to wound a man's heart!"
— 23 hours, 59 min ago
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rated it 4 stars
Jan 24, 2026 06:24PM
“All these things which had formerly so fascinated me appeared this morning to be no more than cerebral acrobatics and refined charlatanism! That is how it always is at the decline of a civilisation. That is how man's anguish ends—in masterly conjuring tricks: pure poetry, pure music, pure thought. The last man—who has freed himself from all belief, from all illusions and has nothing more to expect or to fear—sees the clay of which he is made reduced to spirit, and this spirit has no soil left for its roots, from which to draw its sap. The last man has emptied himself; no more seed, no more excrement, no more blood. Everything having turned into words, every set of words into musical jugglery, the last man goes even further: he sits in his utter solitude and decomposes the music into mute mathematical equations.”
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