To love is to tire of being alone; it is therefore a cowardice, a betrayal of ourselves. (It is exceedingly important that we not love.) — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It's our own concept—our own selves—that we love. — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
“If only, I feel now, if only I could be someone able to see all this as if he had no other relation with… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
What's given, in fact, always depends on the person or thing it's given to. A minor incident in the street brings the cook to… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
Smell is a strange sight. It evokes sentimental landscapes through a sudden sketching of the subconscious. — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
“no nostalgia hurts as much as nostalgia for things that never existed!” — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
pg.9 "In my heart there's a peaceful anguish, and my calm is made of resignation. — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
“The feelings that hurt most, the motions that sting most, are those that are absurd; the longing for impossible things, precisely because they are… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
“I try to say what I feel Without thinking about what I feel. I try to place words right next to my idea So… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
Have you ever considered, beloved other, how invisible we are to each other? We look at each other without seeing. We listen to each… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
“To associate is to die. Only my consciousness of myself is real for me; other people are hazy phenomena in this consciousness, and it… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
“When it comes to dreams, I’m no different from the errand boy and the seamstress. The only thing that distinguishes me from them is… — Fernando Pessoa Copy Share Image
