“We never love anyone. What we love is the idea we have of someone. It’s our own concept—our own selves—that we love.”
More from Fernando Pessoa
“My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps…”
“My memories have turned into anxieties.”
“I wasn’t meant for reality, but life came and found me.”
“I hear the wind blow, and I feel that it was worth being born just to hear the wind blow.”