50 phrases by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer about love

Gustavo Adolfo Claudio Domínguez Bastida, better known as Gustavo Adolfo Becquer (1836 - 1870) was a poet, writer and novelist of Spanish romanticism. Today it is considered One of the most important figures in Spanish literature, and is possibly the most read writer after Cervantes.

He adopted the alias of Bécquer, as his brother Valerian Bécquer had done, a painter. He became quite famous during his life, but it was after his death that most of his works were published and won even more relevance. His best known work is Rhymes and legends, A set of poems and stories, gathered in one of the most popular books of Hispanic literature.

Celebres Quotes by Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer

Love is a mystery. Everything in him are phenomena to which more inexplicable; Everything in him is illogical, everything in him is vagueness and absurd.

What has been has no reason to be again and will not be.

The soul to talk can with your eyes can also kiss with your eyes.

My brain is chaos, my eyes destruction, my essence.

It costs me to know what things I have dreamed of and which have happened to me. My affections are distributed between ghosts of imagination and real characters.

Insomnia with a pretty woman is surely the worst of evils.

He who has imagination, how easily he gets out of nowhere a world.

Poetry is and nothing else that melancholic and vague aspiration that agitates your spirit with the desire for impossible perfection.

Sighs are air and go to the air! Tears are water and go to the sea!. Tell me, woman, when love forgets, do you know where?

Dreams are the spirit of reality with the forms of lies.

It is necessary to make way for deep waters, which will end up breaking the dike, daily increased by a living spring.

In the majestic set of creation, there is nothing that moves me so deeply, that I caress my spirit and give my fantasy flight like the peaceful and fainted light of the moon.

If the dissection of souls could make, how many mysterious deaths would be explained.

You say you have a heart, and you just say it because you feel your beats. That is not a heart ...; It is a machine, which, to the compass that moves, makes noise.

I have faith in the future.

You do not say that, exhausted his treasure, of affairs, the lyre was silent; There may not be poets; But there will always be poetry.

Walking through the indifferent crowd this silent storm of my head.

I don't know if that world of visions lives outside or goes within us.

For the dark corners of my brain, curled up and nake.

Loneliness is the empire of consciousness.

And thought is necessary to exercise it, it is due every day and again and again thinking, to preserve the life of thought.

For a look a world;
For a smile, a sky;
For a kiss ... I don't know what would give you a kiss!

Everything is a lie: glory, gold. What I adore is only true: freedom!

I need to rest; I need, in the same way that the body is bleeding by whose sneeled veins the blood is precipitated with plethoric thrust, vent the brain, insufficient to contain so many absurdities.

The imagination of the boys is a steed, and curiosity the spur that stumbles it and drags it through the most impossible projects.

We will regularly wait for the last footprint to start looking for it.

That is me, that I cross the world, without thinking where I come from, or where my steps will take me.

Each woman has her own smile and that soft dilation of the lips takes infinite forms, barely noticeable, but which serves as a stamp.

While you feel a lot and nothing you know, I, I don't feel anymore, I know everything.

The sun can cloud eternally, the sea can be dried for a moment, the axis of the Earth can be broken as a weak glass ... everything will happen! Death can cover me with its funeral crepes, but the flame of your love can never be extinguished in me.

Loneliness is very beautiful ... when you have someone to tell you.

Frankly speaking: there are inequalities in this world that scare.

You know and I know that in this life with genius it is very counted who writes it, and with any gold it does poetry.

Love is chaos of light and darkness; the woman, an amalgam of perjuries and tenderness; man, an abyss of greatness and smallness; Life, in short, can be compared to a long chain with iron and gold links.

Cry! Don't be ashamed to confess that you loved me a little.

Illuminated by the reddish glow of the bonfire and through the confusing veil that the drunkenness had put in front of his sight, it seemed that the marble image sometimes became a real woman; It seemed that he would be ahead of lips as a prayer.

Perpetual desire for something better, that's me.

Changing horizon is helpful to health and intelligence.

Here, today, everything I ambition: to be a comparsa in the immense comedy of humanity; And concluded my role to make lump, get between racks without being whistled or applauded, without anyone noticing my exit.

The show of the beautiful, in any way it comes, raises the mind to noble aspirations.

God, although invisible, always has a hand laid to lift by one end the load that overwhelms the poor.

While science does not discover the sources of life, while in the sea or in heaven, there is an abyss that is resistant to mathematical calculation, while humanity in its constant progress ignores where it is directed, as long as there is a mystery for the man, there will be poetry!

If sleeping is dying, I want to sleep in peace on the night of death.

Love is a moon ray.

The beautiful woman, when she polishes the steel and contemplates her image, delights in itself; But after all he looks for other eyes to set his own, and if he doesn't find them, he gets bored.

My existence, reduced to the present moment, floats in the ocean of things created as one of those light atoms that swim in the Ray del Sol.

Love is poetry; Religion is love. Two things similar to a third are the same.

Too bad love in a dictionary has nowhere to find when pride is simply pride and when it is dignity!

There may not be poets, but there will always be poetry.

I would like to forge for each one of you a wonderful stan. I would like to be able to chise the form that must contain, as the golden vessel that has to save a precious perfume is chisel.