The most important thing in the world is to hold your soul aloft

There are two infinities that confuse me: the one in my soul devours me; the one around me will crush me

Everyone, either from modesty or egotism, hides away the best and most delicate of his soul’s possessions; to gain the esteem of others, we must only ever show our ugliest sides; this is how we keep ourselves on the common level

Había un no sé qué de vertiginoso que Emma sentía llegar hasta sí, como una emanación de aquellas vidas amontonadas, y su corazón se henchía profundamente al percibirlo. Era como si las ciento veinte mil almas que allí palpitaban le estuvieran enviando al unísono el vaho de aquellas pasiones que ella les atribuía. Su amor ensanchaba a la vista de aquel espacio y se llenaba con el rumoreo de confusos murmullos que subían hasta ella. Proyectaba su amor hacia fuera, hacia las plazas, los paseos y las calles, y la antigua villa normanda le antojaba una capital desmesurada, una especie de Babilonia por cuyas puertas estaba entrando. Se apoyaba con las dos manos en el borde de la ventanilla y se inclinaba hacia afuera para aspirar la brisa, mientras los tres caballos seguían su galope.

Deep in her soul, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like a sailor in distress, she would gaze out over the solitude of her life with desperate eyes, seeking some white sail in the mists of the far-off horizon. She did not know what this chance event would be, what wind would drive it to her, what shore it would carry her to, whether it was a longboat or a three-decked vessel, loaded with anguish or filled with happiness up to the portholes. But each morning, when she awoke, she hoped it would arrive that day, and she would listen to every sound, spring to her feet, feel surprised that it had not come; then at sunset, always more sorrowful, she would wish the next day were already there.

How badly arranged the world is. What is the purpose of ugliness, suffering, sadness? Why our powerless dreams? Why everything?