Quotes
Authors
Luigi Pirandello

"We all have a world of things inside ourselves and each one of us has his own private world. How can we understand each other if the words I use have the sense and the value that I expect them to have, but whoever is listening to me inevitably thinks that those same words have a different sense and value, because of the private world he has inside himself, too."

Source : Luigi Pirandello (1985). “Three plays”, Methuen Drama

Luigi Pirandello

#Thinking Quotes #Listening Quotes #Different Quotes

“Rhyme to kill, rhyme to murder, rhyme to stomp, Rhyme to ill, rhyme to romp, Rhyme to smack, rhyme to shock, rhyme to roll, Rhyme to destroy anything, toy boy. On the microphone: I'm Poppa Large, big shot on the East Coast.”
“May a merciful God preserve me from a Christian Church in which everyone is a saint! I want to be and remain in the church and little flock of the fainthearted, the feeble and the ailing, who feel and recognize the wretchedness of their sins, who sigh and cry to God incessantly for comfort and help, who believe in the forgiveness of sins.”
“If you see everything through hovercams and feed stories, you wind up blind to what's right in front of you.”
“I don't think about other people. If I did, I'd wanna compete. But I don't think like that, because I'm above everybody.”
“There is an immutable conflict at work in life and in business, a constant battle between peace and chaos. Neither can be mastered, but both can be influenced. How you go about that is the key to success.”
“If you look back at my marathons and ask whether I would swap one of them for my one balls-up, of course I would. But you can't choose. You have to make the best of it on the day.”
“Am I jealous? he thought, astonished. Jealous of the chance object to which she has attached herself? Jealous of something that does not concern me? One can be jealous of a love that has turned away, but not of that to which it has turned.”
“There were also the razor marks on her wrists and forearms, half a dozen per arm, not very deep, not very convincing really, just a lame, hapless attempt at hurting herself. There hadn't even been that much blood and nobody at the hospital had been at all surprised. These scars, for some reason, he didn't mind. Maybe they even appealed to him. They showed that she was weak and in need of him.”

Source : Geoff Nicholson (1998). “Bleeding London”, p.62, The Overlook Press

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