Morte na Pérsia Quotes

“Fear? Back then, I didn't even realize what that new feeling was. Later, when it overwhelmed me and almost pulled me under, I understood. And, since then, a nameless fear has hung like a plume of smoke over the great, colourful desert of this country, above my sometimes blissful, sometimes terrible memories of it.”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia

“One sometimes clings tightly to pain, to bitter home-sickness and bitter regret, but one forgets one's guilt; in vain, you might think back to the beginning (who led me this far?). If only you were allowed to accuse once more, turn to others once more, love once more! You plunge into the wide, ocean-like hallucination, you have faith and pray, and forget your dark fear when you gaze into the face of your beloved. But how should one fight it?”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia

“Sometimes I wonder why I write down all these memories. Would I want to give them to strangers to read?”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia

“But should it matter what we do as long as we use our strength courageously and lead a life without desperation to the end? Isn't it wrong to escape, make a detour and be lost, all of which have led me here to the farthest-flung edge of the world? Wouldn't I have had a good courageous life if only I had been able to resist sickness and fear? Will I be made to face the consequences just because I had nothing to counter a nameless and agonizing desperation?”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia

“This book will bring little joy to the reader.”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia

“You know very well that no one can enter the heart of another and become as one, not even for the shortest moment. Even your mother only made you flesh, and at your first breath you breathed in solitude”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia

“Soon the whole fading plain is covered with them and on the other side of the street lie nothing but graves, and dark, veiled women who bustle amongst the dead in shapes of grief.”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia

“And again there was the long road, as straight as an arrow through the shimmering wall of fog, and the sudden apparition of the solitary columns of Persepolis on the terrace that seemed surreally suspended high above the plains”
― Annemarie Schwarzenbach, Morte na Pérsia