Without madness what is man But a wholesome beast, Postponed corpse that begets?

Fernando Pessoa
Some Similar Quotes
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  2. It’s the poet we love in Caeiro, not the philosopher. What we really get from these poems is a childlike sense of life, with all the direct materiality of the child’s mind, and all the vital spirituality of hope and increase that exist in the... - Unknown

  3. Don’t you know what god is? God is everything and God is nothing; for the perfection created by man cannot be anything other than nothing. They decided to give a name to nothingness, and thereby the made it become something. Like you… God, who is... - Aldo Palazzeschi

  4. Nothing will unfold for us unless we move toward whatlooks to us like nothing: faith is a cascade. - Alice Fulton

  5. -I haven't been writing for years. I lost faith. it's not for me. Too many levels.- What levels?- All those levels of existence. us down here, and up there, high above us. the ceiling of the universe. I've chosen nothingness. - Tadeusz Konwicki

More Quotes By Fernando Pessoa
  1. There are ships sailing to many ports, but not a single one goes where life is not painful.

  2. I suffer from life and from other people. I can’t look at reality face to face. Even the sun discourages and depresses me. Only at night and all alone, withdrawn, forgotten and lost, with no connection to anything real or useful – only then do...

  3. If after I die, people want to write my biography, there is nothing simpler. They only need two dates: the date of my birth and the date of my death. Between one and another, every day is mine.

  4. Life is an experimental journey undertaken involuntarily. It is a journey of the spirit through the material world and, since it is the spirit that travels, it is the spirit that is experienced. That is why there exist contemplative souls who have lived more intensely,...

  5. Sit still with me in the shade of these green trees, which have no weightier thought than the withering of their leaves when autumn arrives, or the stretching of their many stiff fingers into the cold sky of the passing winter. Sit still with me...

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