Menotti Lerro Quotes

Men are like wine. You taste them, they seem good, they arouse your senses... But after? You suddenly find yourself with your head spinning. And if you are not careful, if you don’t chose only those high quality ones, you will end up feeling also nauseated.

We deceive ourselves to be the same for our whole life, instead we are other every moment.

Happiness is the illusion of being happy, unhappiness is the fear of being it. A little bit of fear helps you to live in the light, too much strangles you in the dark.

I want to follow the instinct, the passion of my desire, once unspeakable. The moments of love serve to remind us that our condition tends to happiness!

Men were born to die! Life has only one purpose: to understand the sense of your own misery.

If you want understand how a woman loves you just have to listen her words backwards. If you want to understand how a man loves, when he talks about love you must close your ears.

La filosofia fallirà per sempre il suo primario obiettivo, poiché ricerca qualcosa che non esiste.

Bisognerebbe vivere due vite per capire il mondo: una come uomo e l’altra come donna.

Dove sarà mai la luce promessa? C’è forse un paradiso tra le nuvole, riposo nel vento, ristoro nei fondali marini? Dove finisce il buio, l’insonnia, la pazzia, il pianto, la malattia, la morte? Dove si nasconde Dio?

If God entrusted his word to priests, it’s easy to explain why the world refuses to listen to it.

Often behind a great man there is great pain.

L’assenza di chi si ama non è solitudine è ablazione.

Betraying who you love is like betraying yourself!

If you are stupid they’ll humiliate you, if you’re wise they’ll hate you, if you’re beautiful they’ll kill you, and nor the virtues nor the weaknesses of a woman are ever forgiven. Men are blind of rage for being born as monsters, for not being capable to be loved and to love themselves.

We grow old in people’s eyes / or when, opening a wardrobe, / the mirror takes us by surprise. / We grow old, half-plunged / in our rivers / seeing portraits reflected / when images flow among a thousand folds; / we grow old in twisted reflections of cutlery / and glasses. (From The Poetry of Menotti Lerro, p. 41)