Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Tiziano Terzani

Quote by Tiziano Terzani

“Quassù, la sensazione che la natura ha una sua presenza psichica è fortissima. A volte, quando tutto imbacuccato contro il freddo mi fermo ad osservare, seduto su un grotto, il primo raggio di sole che accende le vette dei ghiacciai e lentamente solleva il velo di oscurità, facendo emergere catene e catene di altre montagne dal fondo lattiginoso delle valli, un’aria di immensa gioia pervade il mondo ed io stesso mi ci sento avvolto, assieme agli alberi, gli uccelli, le formiche: sempre la stessa vita in tante diverse, magnifiche forme.”

Quote by Tiziano Terzani

Work

Lettere contro la guerra

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Tiziano Terzani
Tiziano Terzani

Tiziano Terzani was an Italian journalist renowned for his extensive coverage of China. Born on September 14, 1938, in Florence, Italy, he spent over three decades in China, reporting for various Italian media outlets. Terzani's work provided valuable insights into China's political, social, and cultural landscape, earning him a reputation as a leading expert on the country. more

You May Also Like

“A suburban pastor maintained services appropriate for his respected, professional parish. His father, an excitable traveling evangelist, visited and challenged the congregation to confront pride and sing out loudly with the windows open. The next day, the pastor’s banker mentioned overhearing, and he was sheepish. The buttoned-up banker said, though, that the neighborhood had been WAITING TO HEAR the church live out the joy they claimed.”

“She was crouched in the corner of the room, eating something off the floor. It was the old woman dressed in endless black. When she looked up this time there was no question she was there for me. She had the face of my mother but much older, her ancient decayed mouth coming closer for her good-night kiss. I steeled myself against her putrid smell, the mouthful of bitter dust, but as her lips touched mine it was like biting into a purple black plum whose fruit was brilliant red, like an explosion of intense joy. Its childhood smell wrinkled my nose with pleasure, its sweet juices ran down my chin, turning into a beautiful black ocean where I floated safely, not lost as I had imagined, but securely tucked away deep in space.”

“Ainsi dans le faste ostenstatoire d'une dernière cérémonie, le bourgeois, laissant à ses fils un héritage plus riche que celui qu'il a reçu de son père, quite ce monde où il a conu au moins deux grands sources de joie, la fortune et la vanité... Thus in the ostentatious pomp of a last ceremony, the bourgeois, leaving his sons a richer heritage than he has received from his own father, departs from this world where he has known at least two great sources of joy, the fortune and the vanity...”

“To be a birder is to fall in love. Obsessively, irrevocably and, perhaps, foolishly. This love, it creeps up on you. A wedge-tailed eagle slices through the sky. A magpie’s liquid song pierces the dawn. A snowy owl gazes unblinking across the tundra. So, here’s to the birdwatchers, those optimistic, slightly eccentric custodians of wonder and joy and passion and love. Because sometimes it is as simple as opening your eyes, stepping outside and looking upon the world around you.”