So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
Clarice LispectorRead
I hear the mad song of a little bird and crush butterflies between my fingers.
Interpretation
This quote reflects the duality of beauty and destruction in nature and life.
Clarice Lispector's quote captures the contrast between the delicate beauty of nature, symbolized by the 'little bird' and 'butterflies', and the destructive actions we sometimes take. The 'mad song' of the bird indicates a chaotic or overwhelming beauty, while the act of 'crushing butterflies' represents a disregard for that beauty, highlighting the complexity of human emotion and experience towards nature.
In practice
This quote can be used in a nature appreciation speech to illustrate the fragility of beauty.
So long as I have questions to which there are no answers, I shall go on writing.
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.
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
There is not the least flower but seems to hold up its head, and to look pleasantly, in the secret sense of the goodness of its Heavenly Maker.
his planet came with a set of instructions, but we seem to have misplaced them. Important rules like don’t poison the water, soil, or air, don’t let the earth get overcrowded, and don’t touch the thermostat have been broken.
But the trees seemed to know me. They whispered among themselves and beckoned me nearer.
And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief, and the year smiles as it draws near its death.
Relative to most of the energy and material flows on Earth, the machinations of humankind are puny. The planet's powers are much, much bigger than our own. But in a few sensitive places, we're making an impact on a planetary scale, and that impact is not a good one.
The Earth does not belong to us: we belong to the Earth.
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