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Quote by Ernesto Sabato

“Quedamos en vernos pronto. Me dio vergüenza decirle que deseaba verla al otro día o que deseaba seguir viéndola allí mismo y que ella no debería separarse ya nunca de mi...”

Quote by Ernesto Sabato

Work

El Túnel

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Author

Ernesto Sabato
Ernesto Sabato

Argentinian writer, born on June 24, 1911, and died on April 30, 2011. Ernesto Sabato is known for his profound philosophical thoughts and unique literary style, being an important figure in Latin American literature of the 20th century. more

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“Creo que hay que resistir: éste ha sido mi lema. Pero hoy, cuantas veces me he preguntado como encarnar esta palabra, cómo vivir la resistencia. Antes cuando la vida era menos dura, yo hubiera entendido por resistir un acto heroico, como negarse a seguir embarcado en este tren que nos impulsa a la locura y al infortunio. ¿Se les puede pedir a la gente del vértigo que se revele? ¿Puede pedirse a los hombres y a las mujeres de mi país que se nieguen a pertenecer a este capitalismo salvaje si tienen que mantener a sus hijos, a sus padres? Si son responsables, ¿Cómo habrían de abandonar esa vida?”

“Yesu Kristo wa Nazarethi ni mtu mashuhuri zaidi kuliko wote kuwahi kukanyaga ardhi ya dunia hii. Alikufa majira ya saa 9 kamili za mchana, siku ya Jumatano, katika kipindi cha demani cha AD 31. Saa chache baadaye, jua lilipokuwa likizama, alilazwa katika kaburi jipya la Yusufu wa Arimathaya. Katika siku ya kawaida ya Sabato, Jumamosi, siku tatu kamili baada ya mazishi yake, Mungu Baba alimfufua Mtoto Wake kwa ajili ya uzima wa milele.”

“La teología de Borges es el juego de un descreído y es motivo de una hermosa literatura. ¿Cómo explicar, entonces, su admiración por Léon Bloy? ¿No admirará en él, nostálgicamente, la fe y la fuerza? Siempre me ha llamado la atención que admire a compadres y a guapos de facón en la cintura. Por eso planteo estas cuestiones: ¿Le falta una fe a Borges? ¿No estarán condenados a algún Infierno los que descreen? ¿No será Borges ese Infierno? A usted, Borges, heresiarca del arrabal porteño, latinista del lunfardo, suma de infinitos bibliotecarios hipostáticos, mezcla rara de Asia Menor y Palermo, de Chesterton y Carriego, de Kafka y Martín Fierro; a usted, Borges, lo veo ante todo como un Gran Poeta. Y luego, así: arbitrario, genial, tierno, relojero, débil, grande, triunfante, arriesgado, temeroso, fracasado, magnífico, infeliz, limitado, infantil e inmortal.”

“Yes, it was a "beautiful" sermon, tugging the emotions and conjuring up pictures of greatness and peace. But were they talking about the decent peppery ordinary old man he knew, or had the subject strayed to the story of some saint of the past? Or were there perhaps two men being buried under the same name? One perhaps had shown himself to Ross, while the other had been reserved for the view of men like William-Alfred. Ross tried to remember Charles before he was ill, Charles with his love of cockfighting and his hearty appetite, with his perpetual flatulence and passion for gin, with his occasional generosities and meannesses and faults and virtues, like most men. There was some mistake somewhere. Oh well, this was a special occasion...But Charles himself would surely have been amused. Or would he have shed a tear with the rest for the manner of man who had passed away?”

“Strange faces were here. More than just the bits and pieces stolen from nature that adorned the fae in colors and wings and fangs, but things that gave me the chills. Things that didn't feel like fae, more than one feral grin in a pack of men who howled and growled, a bloodless face with more intense fangs than I had seen on any of my people so far, a woman who smelled for all the world like a human but maintained an aura of magic pressure that was anything but.”