#Quote
More Quotes by Julio Cortázar
Only in dreams, in poetry, in play do we sometimes arrive at what we were before we were this thing that, who knows, we are.
But what is memory if not the language of feeling, a dictionary of faces and days and smells which repeat themselves like the verbs and adjectives in a speech, sneaking in behind the thing itself,into the pure present, making us sad or teaching us vicariously.
As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard. (...) You don't pick out the rain that soaks you to the skin when you come out of a concert.
After the age of 50 we begin to die little by little in the deaths of others.
Only by living absurdly is it possible to break out of this infinite absurdity.
In quoting others, we cite ourselves.
The novel wins by points, the short story by knockout.
Memory is a mirror that scandalously lies.
Where are the beginnings, the endings, and most important, the middles?
I sometimes longed for someone who, like me, had not adjusted perfectly with his age, and such a person was hard to find; but I soon discovered cats, in which I could imagine a condition like mine, and books, where I found it quite often.
