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Nikos Kazantzakis

Nikos Kazantzakis Quotes

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Famous Nikos Kazantzakis Quotes

“Ας φύγουμε, φώναξε ο Γεμιστός στην ψυχή του, ας φύγουμε, ψηχή μου, παίρνοντας μαζί μας την ελληνική σπίθα, κι ας στήσουμε τζάκι αλλού! Εμείς θα κάμουμε νέα αρχή. Ας αφήσουμε τους άλλους να μοιρολογούν την Πόλη που ψηχομαχεί, εμείς θα νανουρίσουμε μια νέα Ελλάδα.”

“Άδικος μας φαίνεται σήμερα ο κόσμος, κατώτερος από την επιθυμία ενός τίμιου ανθρώπου, θέλουμε να φέρουμε σε στενή, πιστή ανταπόκριση την πραγματικότητα με την καρδιά μας και να δημιουργήσουμε νέα ισορροπία.”

“Ти си коза - казвах често на душата си и се мъчех да се засмея, за да не се разридая, - ти си коза, клета моя душа; гладна си и вместо да ядеш месо и хляб и да пиеш вино, вземаш един бял лист и пишеш: месо, хляб, вино. И изяждаш листа.”

“—¿Qué maestro? —aulló Judas, amenazando con el puño—. ¿Este? Pero, ¿es que no tenéis ojos para verlo y sesos para juzgarlo? ¿Es éste un maestro? ¿Qué nos decía? ¿Qué nos prometía? ¿Dónde está el ejército de ángeles que debía descender del cielo para salvar a Israel? ¿Dónde está la cruz que debía ser nuestro trampolín para subir al cielo? Apenas este falso Mesías vio alzarse la cruz ante él, perdió la cabeza, se desvaneció y las mujercitas se adueñaron de él y lo emplearon para que les hiciera hijos. Se batió como los otros, al parecer, se batió valientemente y lo proclama desde los tejados. Pero sabes de sobra, desertor, que tu lugar estaba en la cruz. Que otros se ocupen de arar la tierra y las mujeres. ¡Tu deber era subir a la cruz! Te jactas de haber vencido a la muerte… ¡puf! ¿Así triunfas de la muerte? ¡Has engendrado hijos, y eso equivale a decir carne para la muerte! ¡Carne para la muerte! ¿Qué es un niño? ¡Carne para la muerte! Te has convertido en su carnicero y le llevas carne para que la devore. ¡Traidor, desertor, cobarde!”

“In order to mount to heaven, you used the Inferno to give you momentum. "The further down you gain your momentum," you often used to tell me, "the higher you shall be able to reach. The militant Christian's greatest worth is not his virtue, but his struggle to transform into virtue the impudence, dishonor, unfaithfulness, and malice within him. One day Lucifer will be the most glorious archangel standing next to God; not Michael, Gabriel, or Raphael—but Lucifer, after he has finally transubstantiated his terrible darkness into light.”

“With the passage of days in this godly isolation [desert], my heart grew calm. It seemed to fill with answers. I did not ask questions any more; I was certain. Everything - where we came from, where we are going, what our purpose is on earth - struck me as extremely sure and simple in this God-trodden isolation. Little by little my blood took on the godly rhythm. Matins, Divine Liturgy, vespers, psalmodies, the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening, the constellations suspended like chandeliers each night over the monastery: all came and went, came and went in obedience to eternal laws, and drew the blood of man into the same placid rhythm. I saw the world as a tree, a gigantic poplar, and myself as a green leaf clinging to a branch with my slender stalk. When God's wind blew, I hopped and danced, together with the entire tree.”

“Fools, art is a heavy task, more heavy than gold crowns; it's far more difficult to match firm words than armies, they're disciplined troops, unconquered, to be placed in rhythm, the mind's most mighty foe, and not disperse in air. I'd give, believe me, a whole land for one good song, for I know well that only words, that words alone, like the high mountains, have no fear of age or death.”

“A magical portal opened inside my mind and conducted me into an astonishing world. [...] Before this moment I had divined but had never known with such positiveness that the world is extremely large and that suffering and toil are the companions and fellow warriors not only of Cretan, but of every man. [...] That by means of poetry all this suffering and effort could be transformed into dream; no matter how much of the ephemeral existed, poetry could immortalize it by turning it into song.”

“I heard the bells from the future churches, the children playing and laughing in the schoolyards [...] and here was an almond tree in bloom before me: I must reach out and cut a flowering branch. For, by believing passionately in something which still does not exist, we create it. The nonexistent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired, whatever we have not irrigated with our blood to such a degree that it becomes strong enough to stride across the somber threshold of nonexistence.”

“A slave's soul has no worth, my brothers; it lacks strength to tread on this great earth with gallantry and freedom. I pity the poor slaves, they're nought but airy mist, a light breeze scatters them, a fragrance knocks them down; it's only just they crawl on the earth on hands and knees. Today I'll write a hymn to God and pray for this great grace.”

“Man hurries, God does not. That is why man's works are uncertain and maimed, while God's are flawless and sure. My eyes welling with tears, I vowed never to transgress this eternal law again. Like a tree I would be blasted by wind, struck by sun and rain, and would wait with confidence; the long-desired hour of flowering and fruit would come.”