The summer came upon the country like a conqueror.
W. Somerset MaughamTags: descriptive-prose
Himself an ugly man, insignificant
of appearance, he prized very highly comeliness in others.
Tags: beauty desires appearance comeliness uglyness
...with two lovers there is always one who loves and one who lets himself be loved; it is bitter truth to which most of us have to resign ourselves; but now and then there are two who love and two who let themselves be loved.
W. Somerset MaughamTags: love
Mr Harrington was a bore. He exasperated Ashenden, and enraged him; he got on his nerves, and drove him to frenzy. But Ashenden did not dislike him. His self-satisfaction was enormous but so ingenuous that you could not resent it; his conceit was so childlike that you could only smile at it.
W. Somerset MaughamWe can none of us step into the same river twice, but the river flows on and the other river we step into is cool and refreshing, too
W. Somerset MaughamYou Europeans know nothing about America. Because we amass large fortunes you think we care for nothing but money. We are nothing for it; the moment we have it we spend it, sometimes well, sometimes ill, but we spend it. Money is nothing to us; it's merely the symbol of success. We are the greatest idealists in the world; I happen to think that we've set our ideal on the wrong objects; I happen to think that the greatest ideal man can set before himself is self-perfection".
W. Somerset Maugham(...) Era muito simples o que ele ensinava.Dizia que somos maiores do que pensamos, e que a sabedoria é o caminho da liberdade. Para nos salvarmos não é necessário a pessoa retirar-se do Mundo, mas apenas renunciar à individualidade.
O trabalho feito desinteressadamente purifica o espirito, e os deveres são oportunidades dadas ao homem para abafar a própria individualidade e identificar-se com a individualidade universal. (...)''
Difícil é andar sobre o aguçado fio da navalha; é árduo, dizem os sábios, é o caminho da Salvação. (Katha-Upanishad)
Tags: o-fio-da-navalha
It was a night so beautiful that your soul seemed hardly able to bear the prison of the body.
W. Somerset MaughamPerhaps his taciturnity hid a contempt for the human race which had abandoned the great dreams of his youth and now wallowed in sluggish ease; or perhaps these thirty years of revolution had taught him that men are unfit for liberty, and he thought that he had spent his life in the pursuit of that which was not worth the finding. Or maybe he was tired out and waited only with indifference for the release of death.
W. Somerset Maugham...the human race, like drops of water in that river and they flowed on, each so close to the other and yet so far apart, a nameless flood, to the sea. When all things lasted so short a time and nothing mattered very much, it seemed pitiful that men, attaching an absurd importance to trivial objects, should make themselves and one another so unhappy.
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