So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
Clarice LispectorRead
A horse is freedom so indominable that it becomes useless to imprison it to serve man: it lets itself be domesticated, but with a simple, rebellious toss of the head-shaking its mane like an abundance of free-flowing hair-it shows that its inner nature is always wild, translucent and free.
Interpretation
The quote emphasizes the inherent wildness and spirit of a horse that cannot be fully subdued even when domesticated.
This quote by Clarice Lispector captures the essence of a horse as a symbol of freedom and wildness. While horses can be trained and tamed for human purposes, their natural spirit and independence remain intact. The imagery of the horse shaking its mane suggests a yearning for the wild, reminding us that true freedom cannot be completely confined, and that the inner nature of beings often resists total domestication.
In practice
During a discussion on the spirit of animals in nature conservation.
So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
The mystery of human destiny is that we are fated, but that we have the freedom to fulfill or not fulfill our fate: realization of our fated destiny depends on us. While inhuman beings like the cockroach realize the entire cycle without going astray because they make no choices.
Love is now, is always. All that is missing is the coup de grâce- which is called passion.
I work only with lost and founds.
Ela acreditava em anjo e, porque acreditava, eles existiam" | "She believed in angels, and, because she believed, they existed
I write and that way rid myself of me and then at last I can rest.
Mountains are to the rest of the body of the earth, what violent muscular action is to the body of man. The muscles and tendons of its anatomy are, in the mountain, brought out with force and convulsive energy, full of expression, passion, and strength.
Concrete is heavy; iron is hard - but the grass will prevail.
If we could establish a deep abiding relationship with nature, we would never kill an animal for our appetite; we would never harm, vivisect, a monkey, a dog, a guinea pig for our benefit. We would find other ways to heal our wounds, heal our bodies.
Everything is made out of Magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden-in all the places.
Then in October, Indian Summer, the air turned so soft, the sunlight so fragile, and each day's loveliness so poignantly doomed that even self-ignorance and restlessness felt like profound states of being, and he just wandered the empty beaches and misty headlands in a state of serene confusion and awe.
Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.
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