John Locke

O homem não pode fazer-se sem sofrer, pois é ao mesmo tempo o mármore o escultor.

I stand in the ring in the dead city and tie on the red shoes. Everything that was calm is mine, the watch with an ant walking, the toes, lined up like dogs, the stove long before it boils toads, the parlor, white in winter, long before flies, the doe lying down on moss, long before the bullet. I tie on the red shoes. They are not mine. They are my mother’s. Her mother’s before. Handed down like an heirloom but hidden like shameful letters. The house and the street where they belong are hidden and all the women, too, are hidden. All those girls who wore the red shoes, each boarded a train that would not stop. Stations flew by like suitors and would not stop. They all danced like trout on the hook. They were played with. They tore off their ears like safety pins. Their arms fell off them and became hats. Their heads rolled off and sang down the street. And their feet – oh God, their feet in the market place - their feet, those two beetles, ran for the corner and then danced forth as if they were proud. Surely, people exclaimed, surely they are mechanical. Otherwise… But the feet went on. The feet could not stop. They were wound up like a cobra that sees you. They were elastic pulling itself in two. They were islands during an earthquake. They were ships colliding and going down. Never mind you and me. They could not listen. They could not stop. What they did was the death dance. What they did would do them in.

II Reis, Antigo Testamento, 2RS, 10:12

II Reis, 2RS, 10:12, Depois ele se levantou e partiu rumo a Samaria. No caminho, quando estava em Bete-Equede dos Pastores,

Ele fez coisas horríveis com as pessoas e vai fazer coisas horríveis com vocês.

Sempre considerei as ações dos homens como as melhores intérpretes dos seus pensamentos.

- Sempre podemos encontrar tempo para envelhecer. - Ser é ser percebido. - A verdade é o grito de todos, mas o jogo dos poucos. - Poucos pensam, mas todos julgam. - Nada é mais óbvio que a existência de Deus. - A verdade está nos lábios de todos, mas no coração de poucos. (1685 - 1753)

A ambição é, entre todas as paixões humanas, a mais ferina nas suas aspirações e a mais desenfreada nas suas cobiças e, todavia, a mais astuta no intento e a mais ardilosa nos planos.

Salmos, Antigo Testamento, SL, 77:6

Salmos, SL, 77:6, De noite indago o meu íntimo, e o meu espírito pergunta:

⁠Toma a minha vida, Senhor E ajuda-me a ousar com minha fé Enche-me com Teu amor E me faça transbordar Teu amor me constrange E me faz enchergar O Pai que me ama Como eu sou

Amor não se conjuga no passado. Ou se ama para sempre, ou nunca se amou verdadeiramente.