clarice lispector bot

The green moon in ambush. The nightingales and the well

— This time the story was different — he complained after a pause.

And no longer accepted his dominance. I was just resigned to it.

I don’t fall into the foolishness of being sincere.

She didn’t ask questions. She guessed that there were no answers

We are all participants in this theater: in truth we never shall die when death happens. We only die as actors

Then he started asking her questions: why had she collected those bottle tops and bits of paper? She replied very gently: to decorate my room. He asked more questions

Nor did she ever describe places. Lóri had barely spoken of herself in other countries

This only sometimes. Really she left her gloomy office, faced the air outside, dusky, and realized that every day at the same time, it was exactly the same time

— On the third, Joana continued in a soft, clear voice, with small rounded intervals, on the third, there was a grand parade on behalf of new-born infants. It was amusing to watch people singing and carrying flags full of all the non-colours

A splinter buried in the toughest part of the sole of your foot. Ah, and the lack of thirst. Heat with thirst would be bearable

. Now would be the time to disembark and at last touch all things

I discovered this type of humility, which is actually a rather odd form of pride. Pride is not a sin, at least not a very grave one: pride is a childish fault like having too sweet a tooth

Arranging is finding the best form. If I’d been a maid-arranger, I wouldn’t have even needed the amateurism of sculpture; if with my hands I’d been able to arrange things for hours on end

We have smiled in public at things we would not smile at when alone. We have called our candor weakness

There lay the figure of Santa Teresinha, her feet covered with flowers. I stared down at her. There was something odd about her though

“Give me that embroidery, Mateus!,” she’d mumble hiding her strength. And even with her concealing her claws, Mateus was shrinking more and more. It wasn’t only her fault

I express to me and to you my most hidden desires and achieve an orgiastic confused beauty. I tremble with pleasure amidst the novelty of using words that form an intense thicket

What she cared most about was this: she’d seen a Thing. It was ten at night in Praça Tiradentes and the taxi was going fast

I do not know prohibition. And my own strength frees me, that full life that overflows me