There's so much humanity in a love of trees, so much nostalgia for our first sense of wonder, so much power in just feeling our own insignificance when we are surrounded by nature…yes, that's it: just thinking about trees and their indifferent majesty and our love for them teaches us how ridiculous we are - vile parasites squirming on the surface of the earth - and at the same time how deserving of life we can be, when we can honor this beauty that owes us nothing.
Muriel BarberyIt is always reassuring to be disabused of one's own paranoia.
Muriel BarberyIf, in our world, there is any chance of becoming the person you haven't yet become...will I know how to seize that chance, turn my life into a garden that will be completely different from my forebears'?
Muriel BarberyAs a child I often wondered whether I would be allowed to live such moments- to inhabit the slow, majestic ballet of the snowflakes, to be released at last from the dreary frenzy of time.
Is that what it feels to be naked? All one's clothes are gone, yet one's mind is overladen with finery.
As far as I can see, only psychoanalysis can compete with Christians in their love of drawn-out suffering.
Muriel BarberyNella nostra società essere povera, brutta e per giunta intelligente condanna a percorsi cupi e disillusi a cui è meglio abituarsi quanto prima. Alla bellezza si perdona tutto, persino la volgarità. E l’intelligenza non sembra più una giusta compensazione delle cose, una sorta di riequilibrio che la natura offre ai figli meno privilegiati, ma solo un superfluo gingillo che aumenta il valore del gioiello.
Muriel BarberyHow ironic! After decades of grub, deluges of wine and alcohol of every sort, after a life spent in butter, cream, rich sauces, and oil in constant, knowingly orchestrated and meticulously cajoled excess, my trustiest right-hand men, Sir Liver and his associate Stomach, are doing marvelously well and it is my heart that is giving out. I am dying of cardiac insufficiency. What a bitter pill to swallow.
Muriel BarberyNo one was the least bit hungry anymore, but that is precisely what is so good about the moment devoted to pastries; they can only be appreciated to the full extent of their subtlety when they are not eaten to assuage our hunger, when the orgy of their sugary sweetness is not destined to fill some primary need but to coat our palate with all the benevolence of the world.
Muriel BarberyThis is the end of an epic tale, the story of my coming of age, which, like in the novels of the same description, went from wonder to ambition, from ambition to disillusion, and from disillusion to cynicism.
Muriel BarberySo much for the movement of the world! It could have been perfection and it was a disaster. It should be experienced in reality and it is pleasure by proxy, like always.
Muriel BarberyMots clés life
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