Adolfo Bioy Casares photo

Adolfo Bioy Casares

Adolfo Vicente Perfecto Bioy Casares (1914-1999) was born in Buenos Aires, the child of wealthy parents. He began to write in the early Thirties, and his stories appeared in the influential magazine Sur, through which he met his wife, the painter and writer Silvina Ocampo, as well Jorge Luis Borges, who was to become his mentor, friend, and collaborator. In 1940, after writing several novice works, Bioy published the novella The Invention of Morel, the first of his books to satisfy him, and the first in which he hit his characteristic note of uncanny and unexpectedly harrowing humor. Later publications include stories and novels, among them A Plan for Escape, A Dream of Heroes, and Asleep in the Sun. Bioy also collaborated with Borges on an Anthology of Fantastic Literature and a series of satirical sketches written under the pseudonym of H. Bustos Domecq.


“His work seems to confirm my old axiom: it is useless to try to keep the whole body alive.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“Creio que perdemos a imortalidade porque a resistência à morte não evoluiu; seus aperfeiçoamentos insistem na ideia primitiva, rudimentar, de manter vivo todo o corpo. Só se deveria procurar conservar o que interessa para a consciência.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“To be on an island inhabited by artificial ghosts was the most unbearable of nightmares,- to be in love with one of those images was worse than being in love with a ghost (perhaps we always want the person we love to have the existence of a ghost).”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“jimi & and me”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“The sea is endless when you are in a rowboat.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“He believed he understood, for the first time, why people say life is a dream: if you live long enough, the events of a lifetime, like the events of a dream, cannot be communicated, simply because they are of no interest to anyone.Human beings themselves, after death, become figures in a dream to the survivors , they fade away and are forgotten, like dreams that were once convincing, but which no one cares to hear about. There are parents who find in their children a receptive audience, with the result that in the child's credulous imagination they find a last semblance of life, which quickly dims out as if they had never existed. ...”
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“No me gusta nada la idea de morir. Si pudiera vivir quinientos años aceptaría y pediría: ¿No puede darme unos más?”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“La vida es difícil. Para estar en paz con uno mismo hay que decir la verdad. Para estar en paz con el prójimo hay que mentir.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“Llega un momento en la vida en que, haga uno lo que haga, solamente aburre. Queda entonces una manera de recuperar el prestigio: morir.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“Creo que parte de mi amor a la vida se lo debo a mi amor a los libros.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“No espero nada. Esto no es horrible. Después de resolverlo, he ganado tranquilidad. Pero esa mujer me ha dado una esperanza. Debo temer las esperanzas. Tal vez toda esa higiene de no esperar sea un poco ridícula. No esperar de la vida, para no arriesgarla; darse por muerto, para no morir. Ya no estoy muerto: estoy enamorado.”
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“Creo que perdemos la inmortalidad porque la resistencia a la muerte no ha evolucionado; sus perfeccionamientos insisten en la primera idea, rudimentaria: retener vivo todo el cuerpo. Sólo habría que buscar la conservación de lo que interesa a la conciencia.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“Ya no estoy muerto, estoy enamorado.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“No fue como si no me hubiera oído, como si no me hubiera visto; fue como si los oídos que tenía no sirvieran para oír, como si los ojos no sirvieran para ver.”
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“Life has now taught me that love for things, like all unrequited love, takes its toll in the long run.”
Adolfo Bioy Casares
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“People love nobody as much as they do their hatred.”
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“The body is imaginary, and we bow to the tyranny of a phantom. Love is a privilege perception, the most total and lucid not only of the unreality of the world but of our own unreality: not only do we traverse a realm of shadows; but ourselves are shadows.”
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“And the reason I am so nervous is that everything I do now is leading me to one of three possible futures... Which one will it be? Time alone will tell. But still I know that writing this diary can perhaps provide the answer; it may even help produce the right future.”
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“... viejas como el miedo, las ficciones fantpasticas son anteriores a las letras. Los aparecidos pueblan todas las literaturas: están en el Zendavesta, en la Biblia, en Homero, en Las Mil y una Noches...”
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“Quien aspira a la gloria, piensa en sí mismo y ve a su libro como un instrumento para triunfar. Sospecho que para escribir bien, debemos pensar en el libro, no en nosotros.”
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“Under the bludgeonings of fateMy head is bloody, but unbowed.”
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