Quotes about literature-quotes

Nothing is inanimate what is the rest is our interpretation.

Color is the overpowering of black white – the final victory over black.

They grew they did not talk about growing.

Faith is a question of eyesight even the blind can see that.

The world cannot be translated It can only be dreamed of and touched.

I recreate myself that is my only power.

With me: one minus one = one with you: it’s zero. Here lies the only difference.

You are not what you are You are darkness Looking for light within.

There is a moonlight note in the Moonlight Sonata there is a thunder note in an angry sky.

Even great men bow before the Sun it melts hubris into humility.

There are countless circles of hell believers never penetrate the ninth circle.

There are many secrets don’t try to resolve them all.

He confided his deepest secret to you be always wary of his secret.

He thought others were small that was his greatness.

Darkness does not age nothing is always nothing

Unborn eternity does not die existence is dying and falls asleep in the eternity beyond existence.

Nature is an outcry, unpolished truth; the art—a euphemism—tamed wilderness.

In the essence of truth lies deceit.

In a myriad of ways you tell one truth.

God is a cloud from which rain fell.

Devil and God – two sides of the same face.

Cosmos is God, who whispered the syllable of life.

God is busy and has no time for you.

New Rome will be destroyedBy the attacks of new vandals.God always remains silent.

When following God, Zero we never find.

Entering a cell, penetrating deep as a flying saucer to find a new galaxy would be an honorable task for a new scientist interested more in the inner state of the soul than in outer space.

Everything that looks too perfect is too perfect to be perfect.

He knows he will be born again, And start fresh anew.

He had an answer to almost everything and he retired at an early age.

We don’t know anything about silent sages, buried knowledge, the eye of the mute poet, serene seers, yet how many talkative destroyers, prophets and ideologues, teachers and beautifiers there are on the other side.

The night is still waiting.

Dream by making and make by dreaming.

Deliver thunder, GodIf you choose not to talk.

I imagined I was God for a millisecond And became speechless for a long time.

I am the shore and the ocean, awaiting myself on both sides.

The most complicated skill is to be simple.

To hide feelings when you are near crying is the secret of dignity.

It is beautiful to express love and even more beautiful to feel it.

Wherever I go, I meet myself.

I visited many places, Some of them quite Exotic and far away, But I always returned to myself.

Use the wings of the flying Universe, Dream with open eyes; See in darkness.

There is another alphabet, whispering from every leaf, singing from every river, shimmering from every sky.

Words rich in meaning can be cheap in sound effects.

Be aware of the high notes, of the blissful faces and their soft messages, and listen for the silent message of a highly decorated gift.

There is no competition of sounds between a nightingale and a violin.

Heavenly bodies are nests of invisible birds.

To come to nothing through something is the way to outside from both sides.

Since there is no real silence, Silence will contain all the sounds, All the words, all the languages, All knowledge, all memory.

To risk life to save a smile on a face of a woman or a child is the secret of chivalry.

Some stories always remain incomplete, until you do not read them complete with heart <3

To sense the peace of extinguished passionHappiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge

It’s not easy to write a poem about a poem.

Different languages, the same thoughts; servant to thoughts and their masters.

The same word we love and hate, leaves in different directions, taking different paths.

For a game, you don’t need a teacher.

A smiling lie is a whirlwind, easy to enter, but hard to escape.

From whichever side I start, I think I am in an old place where others have been before me.

Even if you are alone you wage war with yourself.

You not only are hunted by others, you unknowingly hunt yourself.

A chronic poet should always be an inveterate nature-lover.

You see the world in colors,I see in Black and Red.

Good literature is a lifeboat! Every time you feel you are sinking, jump on it!

You want to go to a place where you never lose anything and you keep gaining many things? Go to the Land Of Literature where you gain new paths, new ideas, new lives, new goals, and new souls!

Literature is a vast ocean, in which one has to drown themselves to be able to conquer it. Those on shore can see a side of it or have tasted a part of it. And I choose to drown myself in it than just to see it.

Literature is an invitation to people to discover the world of others and the world of others is the best source to understand and to improve our own world!

Such fascinating things, libraries. She closes her eyes. She couldwalk inside and step into a murder, a love story, a complete accountof somebody else’s life, or mutiny on the high seas. Such potential;such adventure—there’s a shimmer of malfeasance in trying otherways of being.

We create words, words create wonders.

Real geniuses would like that what we think of ourselves is true.

Deceit dispels the boredom of the Absolute.

Procreation annihilates eternity.

Through words to the meaning of thoughts with no words.

Absolute is a game with only one player where Absolute forgets itself so it would have a reason to fulfill the motion while returning.

Possible impossibility emerges From an impossible possibility, Or possibly, impossible possibility Blooms from the impossibly possible impossibility.

Everything seems impossible And everything seems possible.

Without pleasure there is no sight or measure.

There is no born lover, There is no born Don Juan, For we are all lovers.

Too often, feelings arrive too soon, waiting for thoughts that often come too late.

He tries to find the exit from himself but there is no door.

Tell me something only you know and make a new friend.

Before the first before and after the last after, there is night waiting.

Trying too hard to be too good, even when trying to be bad, is too good for the bad, too bad for the good.

Love is almost never simple.

A word into the silence thrown always finds its echo somewhere where silence opens hidden lexicons.

They will smile, as they always do when they plan a major attack late in the night.

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Is that all?

Although all days are equally long regardless of the season, some days are long not only seasonally but by rewards they offer.

Our desire to say more grows bigger and what to say about it, except that saying is not always about saying, growing is not always about growing.

Nobility is not only in forgiveness.

Forget decorated generals, tell me about Private Ryan.

For a moment at least, be a smile on someone else’s face.

Strangers are endearing because you don’t know them yet.

They blossomed, they did not talk about blossoming.

There are no winners in real games.

Don’t pay attention to those who offer too much.

It is easy to see the glow but hard to recognize the awakening of silence.

The game itself is bigger than the winning.

If you are good, they say you are weak.

Beyond all vanities, fights, and desires, omnipotent silence lies.

We like to admit to only that which already glows, although it is nobler to support brightness before it glows, not afterwards.