On je covek koji govori ljudima; covek, istina, obdaren zivljim senzibilitetom, vecim entuzijazmom i neznoscu, raspolaze vecim poznavanjem ljudske prirode, i ima obuhvatniju dusu nego sto se moze pretpostaviti da su prosecne duse u ljudskom rodu; to je covek zadovoljan svojim licnim strastima i voljom, i raduje se vise no ostali ljudi zivotnom duhu koji je u njemu; on uziva u kontemplaciji slicnih teznji i strasti koje se manifestuju u zbivanjima sveta, i obicno oseca nagon da ih stvara i onde gde ih ne moze naci. Pored ovih osobina, on ima jos jednu sposobnost: da odsutne stvari uticu na njega kao da su prisutne vise nego na ostale ljude; sposobnost da u sebi docara strasti koje su zaista daleko od toga da budu iste kao one koje proizilaze iz stvarnih dogadjaja, a koje medjutim ( narocito u onim delovima opste simpatije koji raduju i vesele) mnogo vise lice na strasti koje dolaze od stvarnih dogadjaja nego li ista sto su ljudi, samo svojim sopstvenim umom, navikli da osecaju u sebi;- otuda, a i iz prakse, to je covek koji je stekao vecu spremnost i moc izrazavanja onoga sto misli i oseca, a narocito onih misli i osecanja, koja se po njegovom licnom izboru, ili prema strukturi njegovog sopstvenog uma, radjaju u njemu bez neposrednog spoljnjeg uzbudjenja.“
In addition to being a brilliant military mind and feared ruler, Napolean Bonaparte (1763 – 1821) was a prolific writer of letters – he reportedly wrote as many as 75,000 letters in his lifetime.
I love you no longer; on the contrary, I detest you. you are a wretch, truly perverse, truly stupid, a real Cinderella. You never write to me at all, you do not love your husband; you know the pleasure that your letters give him yet you cannot even manage to write him half a dozen lines, dashed off in a moment! What then do you do all day, Madame? What business is so vital that it robs you of the time to write to your faithful lover? What attachment can be stifling and pushing aside the love, the tender and constant love which you promised him? Who can this wonderful new lover be who takes up your every moment, rules your days and prevents you from devoting your attention to your husband?
Beware, Josephine; one fine night the doors will be broken down and there I shall be. In truth, I am worried, my love, to have no news from you; write me a four page letter instantly made up from those delightful words which fill my heart with emotion and joy. I hope to hold you in my arms before long, when I shall lavish upon you a million kisses, burning as the equatorial sun.
How long do u have to wait for that special someone to come in your life?Do u have to wait days, weeks, months, or even years? You have no idea, love can strike at anytime, and happen at anyplace!
In a health class room, or in a shopping mall.
Nobody knows how or when it will happen, but when it does. You will know from that very moment on, that you found love and u have love. And when you find it, dont ever let it go! Because if you do, you will think of the what ifs and the could ofs, all the time and never know how you and your love could of been. Hold you love as if you have to hold on to your life! because once you let go, your life is gone! No more extreme happiness, and joy, just average days with no one to share it with! Dont let yourself do that, find the one you truly love and stick with them through the hard and easy , the hurtful and horror, because at the end you will only have two words to say to that one you love
Whoever embraces a woman is Adam. The woman is Eve.
Everything happens for the first time.
I saw something white in the sky. They tell me it is the moon, but
what can I do with a word and a mythology.
Trees frighten me a little. They are so beautiful.
The calm animals come closer so that I may tell them their names.
The books in the library have no letters. They spring forth when I open them.
Leafing through the atlas I project the shape of Sumatra.
Whoever lights a match in the dark is inventing fire.
Inside the mirror an Other waits in ambush.
Whoever looks at the ocean sees England.
Whoever utters a line of Liliencron has entered into battle.
I have dreamed Carthage and the legions that destroyed Carthage.
I have dreamed the sword and the scale.
Praised be the love wherein there is no possessor and no possessed, but both surrender.
Praised be the nightmare, which reveals to us that we the power to create hell.
Whoever goes down to a river goes down to the Ganges.
Whoever looks at an hourglass sees the dissolution of an empire.
Whoever plays with a dagger foretells the death of Caesar.
Whoever dreams is every human being.
In the desert I saw the young Sphinx, which has just been sculpted.
There is nothing else so ancient under the sun.
Everything happens for the first time, but in a way that is eternal.
Whoever reads my words is inventing them.
Jorge Luis Borges