This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream?
Tags: philosophy, pessimism

Other Quotes by "Marguerite Yourcenar"

Every invalid is a prisoner.
Tags: prisoner, every
Leaving behind books is even more beautiful — there are far too many children.
Tags: legacy, childfree, books
The true birthplace is that wherein for the first time one looks intelligently upon oneself; my first homelands have been books, and to a lesser degree schools.
Tags: words, self, reading, literature, knowledge, books
Ce matin, l'idée m'est venue pour la première fois que mon corps, ce fidèle compagnon, cet ami plus sûr, mieux connu de moi que mon âme, n'est qu'un monstre sournois qui finira par dévorer son maître.
Tags: time, life-and-death, life, age
I was glad that our venerable, almost formless religions, drained of all intransigence and purged of savage rites, linked us mysteriously to the most ancient secrets of man and of earth, not forbidding us, however, a secular explanation of facts and a rational view of human conduct.
Tags: religion, law
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