Antonio Porchia (1886 – 1968)
Argentinian writer and poet.
Times when I understand myself a little, I understand others less.
The doing doesn't do anything.
All that can’t be is almost always a reproach against what can be.
Every toy has the right to break.
My bits of time play with eternity.
Yes, I am preoccupied with myself. But I've forgotten what that means.
Yes, I will try to be. Because I believe that not being is arrogant.
When I come upon some idea that is not of this world, I feel as though the world had grown wider.
You are a puppet, but in the hands of the infinite, which may be your own.
Infancy is what is eternal, everything else is brevity, extreme brevity.
Treat me as you should treat me, not as I should be treated.
We tear life out of life to use it for looking at itself.
Chimeras come alone and leave accompanied.
My dignity asks him who does me no harm to do me no harm. Of him who harms me it asks nothing.
One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.
Those who gave away their wings are sad not to see them fly.
The condemnation of an error is another error.
One who dwells in evil doesn’t leave, for fear of running into...evil.
If I didn’t think the sun looked at me a little, I wouldn’t look at it.
If you don’t have to change routes, why should you change guides?