Nikos Kazantzakis

“Beauty always had a purpose: to be of service to life.”

“By means of poetry all this suffering and effort could be transformed into dream; no matter how much of the ephemeral existed, poetry could immortalize it by turning it into song. Only two or three primitive passions had governed me until this time: fear, the struggle to conquer fear, and the yearning for freedom. But now two new passions were kindled inside me: beauty and the thirst for learning.”

“No, you're not free," he said. "The string you're tied to is perhaps no longer than other people's. That's all. You're on a long piece of string, boss; you come and go, and think you're free, but you never cut the string in two. And when people don't cut that string . . .""I'll cut it some day!" I said defiantly, because Zorba's words had touched an open wound in me and hurt."It's difficult, boss, very difficult. You need a touch of folly to do that; folly, d'you see? You have to risk everything! But you've got such a strong head, it'll always get the better of you. A man's head is like a grocer; it keeps accounts: I've paid so much and earned so much and that means a profit of this much or a loss of that much! The head's a careful little shopkeeper; it never risks all it has, always keeps something in reserve. It never breaks the string. Ah no! It hangs on tight to it, the bastard! If the string slips out of its grasp, the head, poor devil, is lost, finished! But if a man doesn't break the string, tell me, what flavor is left in life? The flavor of camomile, weak camomile tea! Nothing like rum-that makes you see life inside out!”

“While experiencing happiness, we have difficulty in being conscious of it. Only when the happiness is past and we look back on it do we suddenly realize - sometimes with astonishment - how happy we had been.”

“I felt once more how simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the sound of the sea. Nothing else.”

“When I encounter a sunrise, a painting, a woman, or an idea that makes my heart bound like a young calf, then I know I am standing in front of happiness.”

“Life on earth means: the sprouting of wings.”

“What is truth? What is falsehood? Whatever gives wings to men, whatever produces great works and great souls and lifts up a man's height above the earth - that's true. Whatever clips off man's wings - that's false.”

“Only one woman exists in this world, one woman with countless faces.”

“Never in my life have I feared death as much as I feared that resurrection.”

“The human soul is heavy, clumsy, held in the mud of the flesh. Its perceptions are still coarse and brutish. It can divine nothing clearly, nothing with certainty.”

“How could I, who loved life so intensely, have let myself be entangled for so long in that balderdash of books and paper blackened with ink!”

“Tell me what you do with the food you eat, and I'll tell you who you are. Some turn their food into fat and manure, some into work and good humor, and others, I'm told, into God. So there must be three sorts of men. I'm not one of the worst, boss, nor yet one of the best. I'm somewhere in between the two. What I eat I turn into work and good humor. That's not too bad, after all!'He looked at me wickedly and started laughing.'As for you, boss,' he said, 'I think you do your level best to turn what you eat into God. But you can't quite manage it, and that torments you. The same thing's happening to you as happened to the crow.''What happened to the crow, Zorba?''Well, you see, he used to walk respectably, properly - well, like a crow. But one day he got it into his head to try and strut about like a pigeon. And from that time on the poor fellow couldn't for the life of him recall his own way of walking. He was all mixed up, don't you see? He just hobbled about.”

“...I spent the whole morning coiled up in front of the fire, with my hands over it, eating nothing, motionless, just listening to the first rain of the season, softly falling. I was thinking of nothing. Rolled up in a ball, like a mole in damp soil, my brain was resting. I could hear the slight movements, murmurings and nibblings of the earth, and the rain falling and the seeds swelling. I could feel the sky and the earth copulating as in primitive times when they mated like a man and woman and had children. I could hear the sea before me, all along the shore, roaring like a wild beast and lapping with its tongue to slake its thirst.”

“To think things out properly and fairly, a fellow's got to be calm and old and toothless: When you're an old gaffer with no teeth, it's easy to say: 'Damn it, boys, you mustn't bite!' But, when you've got all thirty-two teeth...”

“He dejado de acordarme de lo que ayer ocurrió y de preguntarme qué ocurrirá mañana. Lo que ocurre hoy, en el minuto presente, es lo que me interesa. Yo digo: ¿Qué haces Zorba en este momento? Duermo. ¡Pues, entonces, duérmete bien! ¿Qué haces en este momento, Zorba? Trabajo. ¡Pues entonces, trabaja bien! ¿Y ahora qué haces, Zorba? Estoy besando a una mujer. ¡Pues entonces, bésala bien, Zorba, olvídate de todo, que en el mundo sólo existís ella y tú, hala!”

“I should learn to run, to wrestle, to swim, to ride horses, to row, to drive a car, to fire a rifle. I should fill my soul with flesh. I should fill my flesh with soul. In fact, I should reconcile at last within me the two internal antagonists.”

“You were saying you wanted to open the people's eyes. All right, you just go and open old uncle Anagnosti's eyes for him! You saw how his wife had to behave before him, waiting for his orders, like a dog begging. Just go now and teach them that women have equal rights with men, and that it's cruel to eat a piece of the pig while the pig's still raw and groaning in front of you, and that it's simple lunacy to give thanks to God because he's got everything while you're starving to death!...Let people be, boss: don't open their eyes. And supposing you did, what'd they see? Their misery! Leave their eyes closed, boss, and let them go on dreaming!”

“Eso es la libertad. Tener una pasión, amontonar monedas de oro, y repentinamente dominar la pasión y arrojar el tesoro a todos los vientos. Liberarse de una pasión para someterse a otra, más noble. Pero, ¿no es ésta, también, una forma de esclavitud?”

“Bu adam,' diye düşündüm, 'okula gitmediği için beyni bozulmamış. Çok şeyler yapıp çok şeyler görmüş ve çekmiş; açılmış, kalbi ilkel cesaretini kaybetmeden genişlemiş. Bizim için dallı budaklı ve çözülmez olan bütün sorunları o, hemşehrisi Büyük İskender gibi bir kılıç vuruşuyla çözüveriyor. Onun açık vermesi zordur. Çünkü tabanlarından başına kadar, bütünüyle toprağa dayanıyor. Afrika vahşileri yılana tapar, çünkü bütün vücutları toprağa değer ve böylece toprağın bütün sırlarını bilirler. Bu sırlara karnı, kuyruğu, edep yeri ve başıyla varmıştır o. Biz okumuşlar, havadaki sersem kuşlar gibiyiz.”

“ Mi-as exersa perfect cele cinci simturi, pielea intreaga, pentru a se desfata si a intelege. Mi-as umple sufletul cu carne. Mi-as umple carnea cu suflet ”

“ Sa fi jurat ca sufletul, e si el, un animal cu plamani si nari, ca are nevoie de mult oxigen si ca se inabusa in praf si printre prea numeroase rasuflari”

“ Cine oare a creat acest labirint al nesigurantei, acest templu al trufiei, acest ulcior cu pacate, acest ogor semanat cu mii de viclesuguri, aceasta poarta a iadului, acest cos plin pana la refuz de siretlicuri, aceasta otrava care aduce cu mierea: femeia? ”

“It was certainly not this mummified and outrageously painted old woman he was seeing before him, but the entire "female species," as it was his custom to call women. The individual disappeared, the features were obliterated, whether young or senile, beautiful or ugly - those were mere unimportant variations. Behind each woman rises the austere, sacred and mysterious face of Aphrodite.”

“Questo operaio analfabeta, che quando scriveva spezzava le penne con la sua foga impaziente, era sopraffatto, come i primi uomini sottrattisi alla condizione di scimmia, o come i grandi filosofi, dai problemi fondamentali della vita, e li viveva come necessità immediate e urgenti. Come un bambino, vedeva anche lui tutte le cose per la prima volta, e si stupiva continuamente, e faceva domande, e tutto gli sembrava un miracolo, e ogni mattina quando apriva gli occhi e vedeva gli alberi, il mare, le pietre, un uccello, rimaneva a bocca spalancata. Cos'è questo miracolo? gridava. Che cosa vuol dire albero, mare, pietra, uccello?”

“Life's true face is the skull.”

“so few in reality are the true necessities of man”

“God turned his face the other way, and the earth was in darkness. "An eclipse of God... an eclipse of God”

“All those who actually live the mysteries of life haven't the time to write, and all those who have the time don't live them! D'you see?”

“The sole way to save oneself is to save others. Or to struggle to save others -even that is sufficient.”

“The truth is that we all are one, that all of us together create god, that god is not man's ancestor, but his descendant.”

“I knew that over and above the truth, there exists another duty which is much more important and much more human.”

“The only thing I know is this: I am full of wounds and still standing on my feet.”

“My entire soul is a cry, and all my work is a commentary on that cry.”

“The canary began to sing again. The sun had struck it, and its throat and tiny breast had filled with song. Francis gazed at it for a long time, not speaking, his mouth hanging half opened, his eyes dimmed with tears."The canary is like man's soul," he whispered finally. "It sees bars round it, but instead if despairing, it sings. It sings, and wait and see, Brother Leo: one day its song shall break the bars.”

“Once more I realized to what an extent earthly happiness is made to the measure of man. It is not a rare bird which we must pursue at one moment in heaven, at the next in our minds. Happiness is a domestic bird found in our own courtyards.”

“When an almond tree became covered with blossoms in the heart of winter, all the trees around it began to jeer. 'What vanity,' they screamed, 'what insolence! Just think, it believes it can bring spring in this way!' The flowers of the almond tree blushed for shame. 'Forgive me, my sisters,' said the tree. 'I swear I did not want to blossom, but suddenly I felt a warm springtime breeze in my heart.”

“The people cast themselves down by the fuming boardswhile servants cut the roast, mixed jars of wine and water,and all the gods flew past like the night-breaths of spring.The chattering female flocks sat down by farther tables,their fresh prismatic garments gleaming in the moonas though a crowd of haughty peacocks played in moonlight.The queen’s throne softly spread with white furs of foxgaped desolate and bare, for Penelope felt ashamed to come before her guests after so much murder.Though all the guests were ravenous, they still refrained,turning their eyes upon their silent watchful lordtill he should spill wine in libation for the Immortals.The king then filled a brimming cup, stood up and raisedit high till in the moon the embossed adornments gleamed:Athena, dwarfed and slender, wrought in purest gold,pursued around the cup with double-pointed speardark lowering herds of angry gods and hairy demons;she smiled and the sad tenderness of her lean face,and her embittered fearless glance, seemed almost human.Star-eyed Odysseus raised Athena’s goblet highand greeted all, but spoke in a beclouded mood:“In all my wandering voyages and torturous strife,the earth, the seas, the winds fought me with frenzied rage;I was in danger often, both through joy and grief,of losing priceless goodness, man’s most worthy face.I raised my arms to the high heavens and cried for help,but on my head gods hurled their lightning bolts, and laughed.I then clasped Mother Earth, but she changed many shapes,and whether as earthquake, beast, or woman, rushed to eat me; then like a child I gave my hopes to the sea in trust,piled on my ship my stubbornness, my cares, my virtues,the poor remaining plunder of god-fighting man,and then set sail; but suddenly a wild storm burst,and when I raised my eyes, the sea was strewn with wreckage.As I swam on, alone between sea and sky,with but my crooked heart for dog and company,I heard my mind, upon the crumpling battlementsabout my head, yelling with flailing crimson spear.Earth, sea, and sky rushed backward; I remained alonewith a horned bow slung down my shoulder, shorn of godsand hopes, a free man standing in the wilderness.Old comrades, O young men, my island’s newest sprouts,I drink not to the gods but to man’s dauntless mind.”All shuddered, for the daring toast seemed sacrilege,and suddenly the hungry people shrank in spirit;They did not fully understand the impious wordsbut saw flames lick like red curls about his savage head.The smell of roast was overpowering, choice meats steamed,and his bold speech was soon forgotten in hunger’s pangs;all fell to eating ravenously till their brains reeled.Under his lowering eyebrows Odysseus watched them sharply:"This is my people, a mess of bellies and stinking breath!These are my own minds, hands, and thighs, my loins and necks!"He muttered in his thorny beard, held back his hungerfar from the feast and licked none of the steaming food.”

“Throughout my life my greatest benefactors have been my travels and my dreams. Very few men, living or dead, have helped me in my struggles.”

“Beauty is merciless. You do not look at it, it looks at you and does not forgive.”

“Every perfect traveler always creates the country where he travels.”

“What a strange machine man is! You fill him with bread, wine, fish, and radishes, and out comes sighs, laughter, and dreams.”

“You have your brush, you have your colors, you paint the paradise, then in you go.”

“There is only one sin god will not forgive Boss, and that is to deny a woman who is in wanting ~ Zorba”

“With the passage of days in this godly isolation [desert], my heart grew calm. It seemed to fill with answers. I did not ask questions any more; I was certain. Everything - where we came from, where we are going, what our purpose is on earth - struck me as extremely sure and simple in this God-trodden isolation. Little by little my blood took on the godly rhythm. Matins, Divine Liturgy, vespers, psalmodies, the sun rising in the morning and setting in the evening, the constellations suspended like chandeliers each night over the monastery: all came and went, came and went in obedience to eternal laws, and drew the blood of man into the same placid rhythm. I saw the world as a tree, a gigantic poplar, and myself as a green leaf clinging to a branch with my slender stalk. When God's wind blew, I hopped and danced, together with the entire tree.”

“A man needs a little madness, or else... he never dares cut the rope and be free.”

“Since we cannot change reality, let us change the eyes which see reality.”

“If a woman sleeps alone it puts a shame on all men. God has a very big heart, but there is one sin He will not forgive. If a woman calls a man to her bed and he will not go.”

“I say one thing, you write another, and those who read you understand still something else! I say: cross, death, kingdom of heaven, God...and what do you understand? Each of you attaches his own suffering, interests and desires to each of these sacred words, and my words disappear, my soul is lost. I can't stand it any longer!”

“We are not men, to have need of another, an eternal life; we are women, and for us one moment with man we love is everlasting Paradise, one moment far from the man we love is everlasting hell. It is here on earth that we women love out eternity”