We are dust and to dust return. In the end we’re neither air, nor fire, nor water, just dirt, neither more nor less, just dirt, and maybe some yellow flowers.
PABLO NERUDAThe tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.
More Pablo Neruda Quotes
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I believed that the way passed through Man, and that it was from there that destiny had to emerge.
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It was my destiny to love and say goodbye.
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In the distance someone is singing.
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In this part of the story I am the one who dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you, because I love you, Love, in fire and in blood.
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I have named you queen. There are taller than you, taller. There are purer than you, purer. There are lovelier than you, lovelier. But you are the queen.
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A book, a book full of human touches, of shirts, a book without loneliness, with men and tools, a book is victory.
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While I’m writing, I’m far away; and when I come back, I’ve gone.
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I’m not me but living matter fermenting and forming its own shapes in the fruitfulness of every day.
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To feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, widens out the boundaries of our being, and unites all living things.
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Absence is a house so vast that inside you will pass through its walls and hang pictures on the air.
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Love is not about property, diamonds and gifts. It is about sharing your very self with the world around you.
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And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.
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To feel the love of people whom we love is a fire that feeds our life.
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You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.
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Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness.
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The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.
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The night is shattered, and the blue stars shiver in the distance.
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What does autumn go on paying for with so much yellow money?
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There is no space wider than that of grief.
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Shyness is a condition foreign to the heart – a category, a dimension which leads to loneliness.
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I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
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Like them you are tall and taciturn, and you are sad, all at once, like a voyage.
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Hate is like a swordfish, working through water invisibly and then you see it coming with blood along its blade, but transparency disarms it.
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So I wait for you like a lonely house till you will see me again and live in me. Till then my windows ache.
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A child who does not play is not a child, but the man who doesn’t play has lost forever the child who lived in him and who he will miss terribly.
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Today is today, and yesterday is gone. There is no doubt.
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