Antonio Porchia HOME

VOICES is a book of aphorisms in Spanish (Voces)

Antonio Porchia



My father, when he went, made my childhood a gift of half century.

I love you as you are, but do not tell me how that is.

Flowers are without hope. Because hope is tomorrow and flowers have no tomorrow.

I know what I have given you... I do not know what you have received.

One lives in the hope of becoming a memory.

Set out from any point. They are all alike. They all lead to a point of departure.

The trees are alone, the clouds are alone. Everything is alone when I am alone.

Would there be this eternal seeking if the found existed? We become aware of the void as we fill it.

Yes, it is necessary to suffer, even in vain, so as not to live in vain.

Yes, I will try to be. Because I believe that not being is arrogant.

Following straight lines shortens distances, and also life.

Without this ridiculous vanity that takes the form of selfdisplay and is part of everything and everyone, we would see nothing, and nothing would exist.

A hundred years die in a moment, just as a moment dies in a moment.

In its last moment, the whole of my life will last only a moment.

Before I traveled my road I was my road.

Sometimes at night, I turn on the light so as not to see. A big heart can be filled with very little.

A child shows his toy, a man hides his.

Out of hundred years, a few moments were made that stayed with me, not a hundred years.

In order to reach some heights, I don’t lower them: I raise them higher.

Nothing that is complete breathes.

When everything is done, the mornings are sad.

In full light we are not even a shadow.

Everything that changes, where it changes, leaves behind it an abyss.

Convince me, but without convictions. Convictions no longer convince me.

He is small who hides in order to show himself.

Knowing how to die costs a lifetime.

One who walks from fire to fire dies from the cold.

My God, I have almost never believed in you, and yet I have always loved you.