That human life must be some kind of mistake is sufficiently proved by the simple observation that man is a compound of needs which are hard to satisfy; that their satisfaction achieves nothing but a painless condition in which he is only given over to boredom; and that boredom is a direct proof that existence is in itself valueless, for boredom is nothing other than the sensation of the emptiness of existence.
We complain of the darkness in which we live out our lives; we do not understand the nature of existence in general; we especially do not know the relation of our own self to the rest of existence. Not only is our life short, our knowledge is limited entirely to it, since we can see neither back before our birth nor out beyond our death, so that our consciousness is as it were a lightning-flash momentarily illuminated by the night…." - Arthur Schopenhauer, Essays and Aphorisms (via heteroglossia)
Silence is always beautiful, and a silent person is always more beautiful than one who talks." - Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Adolescent (via dehanginggarden)
Imagine: it’s Soviet Russia, 1935. Your husband and son have been arrested on charges of belonging to anti-Soviet organisations. Your first husband was executed years ago for similar crimes. You are an impoverished poet, banned from publishing your work. What do you do?
Write a letter to Stalin,…
I returned home with a feeling of absolute loneliness.
Usually that feeling of being alone in the world is accompanied by a condescending sense of superiority. I scorn all humankind; people around me seem vile, sordid, stupid, greedy, gross, niggardly. I do not fear solitude ; it is almost Olympian.
That night, like many other nights, I was alone as a consequence of my own failings, my own depravity. At such times the world seems despicable, even though I know that I am necessarily a part of it. Then a frenzy to obliterate everything sweeps over me ; I let myself be seduced by the temptation of suicide ; I get drunk ; I look for prostitutes. I receive a certain satisfaction from proving my own baseness, in confirming that I am no better than the lowest of the low around me." - Ernesto Sabato, from The Tunnel