Reality is a prison, where one vegetates and always will. All the rest - thought, action - is just a pastime, mental or physical. What counts then, is to come to grips with reality. The rest can go. — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
Dawn's faint breath breathes with your mouth at the ends of empty streets. Gray light your eyes, sweet drops of dawn on dark hills.… — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
In the mental disturbance and effort of writing, what sustains you is the certainty that on every page there is something left unsaid. — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
Why does a man who is truly in love insist that this relationship must continue and be "lifelong"? Because life is pain and the… — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
I thought of how many places there are in the world that belong in this way to someone, who has it in his blood… — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
Now that I've seen what war is, what civil war is, I know that everybody, if one day it should end, ought to ask… — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
It had to happen to you, to concentrate your whole life on one point, and then discover that you can do anything except live… — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
There is only one pleasure-that of being alive. All the rest is misery. — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
But here's the worst part: the trick to life lies in hiding from those we hold most dear how much they mean to is;… — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
Traveling is a brutality. It forces you to trust strangers and to lose sight of all that familiar comfort of home and friends — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
“Meanwhile we arrived at our lane and the sight of the olive tree rubbed me the wrong way. I began to see that no… — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi. (Death will come and it will have your eyes.) — Cesare Pavese Copy Share Image
