Moments like this act as magical interludes, placing our hearts at the edge of our souls: fleetingly, yet intensely, a fragment of eternity has come to enrich time...When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things.
Muriel BarberyLife has meaning and we grown-ups know what it is is the universal lie that everyone is supposed to believe. Once you become an adult and you realize that's not true, it's too late.
Muriel BarberyAs always, I am saved by the inability of living creatures to believe anything that might cause the walls of their little mental assumptions to crumble.
Muriel BarberyTo beauty, all is forgiven, even vulgarity. Intelligence no longer seems an adequate compensation for things...
Muriel BarberyIf you have but one friend, make sure you choose her well.
Muriel BarberyMots clés friendship
When tea becomes ritual, it takes its place at the heart of our ability to see greatness in small things. Where is beauty to be found? In great things that, like everything else, are doomed to die, or in small things that aspire to nothing, yet know how to set a jewel of infinity in a single moment?
Muriel BarberyMots clés beauty infinity tea ritual ceremony
I thought: pity the poor in spirit who know neither the enchantment nor the beauty of language.
Muriel BarberyMots clés words reading books literature language
. . . maybe that's what life's all about: there's a lof of despair, but also the odd moments of beauty, where time is no longer the same . . . [like] something suspended . . . an elsewhere . . . an always within a never.
Yes, that's is, an always within a never.
The real ordeal is not leaving those you love but learning to live without those who don't love you.
Muriel BarberyWhat I really devoured . . . was the truculence of my hosts' language: the syntax may have been brutally sloppy, but it was oh so warm in its juvenile authenticity. I feasted on their words, yes, the words flowing at that get-together of country brothers, the sort of words that, at times, delight one much more than the pleasures of the flesh. Words: repositories for singular realities which they transform into moments in an anthology, magicians that change the face of reality by adorning it with the right to become memorable, to be placed in a library of memories. Life exists only by virtue of the osmosis of words and facts, where the former encase the latter in ceremonial dress.
Muriel Barbery« ; premier précédent
Page 4 de 25.
suivant dernier » ;
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.