Quote by Laszlo Krasznahorkai Download Open image ““It passes, but it does not pass away.”” — Laszlo Krasznahorkai ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 4.3 out of 5 (5 ratings) Copy quoteShare
“Nothing goes away. Not on its own. You deal with it, or it deals with you.” — Jonathan Safran Foer Copy Share Image
“Where one can no longer love, there one should pass by.” — Nietzsche Friedrich Wilhelm Copy Share Image
“...megértette, hogy mindaz, amit mi a létből érzékelünk, nem más, mint a hiábavalóság felfoghatatlan terjedelmű emlékműve, mely az idők végezetéig ismétli önmagát, és hogy… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“Culture, then, only truly becomes culture when it is embodied in someone.” — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“..but if it does occur, then anyone can comprehend that above us and below us, outside of ourselves and deep within ourselves, there is… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“It was a long struggle against invisible foes, or to put it more accurately, against invisible foes that might not have been there at… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“I would leave everything here: the valleys, the hills, the paths, and the jaybirds from the gardens, I would leave here the petcocks and… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“Cele doua ceasuri arata, concomitent, doua forme diferite de timp, desi pe ambele destul de inexact. Al nostru intarzie peste masura, iar cel de… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“Get it into your thick head that jokes are just like life. Things that begin badly, end badly. Everything's fine in the middle, it's… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“However apparently insignificant the event, whether it be the ring of tobacco ash surrounding the table, the direction from which the wild geese first… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“Imaginile i se perindau in tacere, iar si iar, prin fata ochilor, intr-o succesiune tot mai rigida, parca tot ce considera omul ca-i important… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
“The entire end-of-October night was beating with a single pulse, its own strange rhythm sounding through trees and rain and mud in a manner… — László Krasznahorkai Copy Share Image
