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Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart Quotes: Where does music go when it’s not playing?—she asked herself. And disarmed she would answer: May they make a harp out of my nerves when I die.
         

Where does music go when it’s not playing?—she asked herself. And disarmed she would answer: May they make a harp out of my nerves when I die.


Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart
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Where does music go when it’s not playing?—she asked herself. And disarmed she would answer: May they make a harp out of my nerves when I die.
         



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"Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart Quotes." Quoteslyfe.com, 2024. Mon. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.quoteslyfe.com/quote/Where-does-music-go-when-it-s-79718>.




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Other quotes of Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart


It was darker, all she could see of him was a shadow. He was fading more and more, slipping through her hands, dead at the bottom of sleep.

It was darker, all she could see of him was a shadow. He was fading more and more, slipping through her hands, dead at the bottom of sleep.



She felt the phrase “demand her rights” had lain inside her forever, waiting.

She felt the phrase “demand her rights” had lain inside her forever, waiting.



But she didn’t want to rest! – Her blood ran through her more slowly, its pace domesticated, like a beast that had trained its steps to fit in its cage.

But she didn’t want to rest! – Her blood ran through her more slowly, its pace domesticated, like a beast that had trained its steps to fit in its cage.



Dying is something else. Dying is different to good and bad.

Dying is something else. Dying is different to good and bad.



The steel suddenly touched her heart. Ah, jealousy, it was jealousy, the cold hand mashing her slowly, squeezing her, diminishing her soul.

The steel suddenly touched her heart. Ah, jealousy, it was jealousy, the cold hand mashing her slowly, squeezing her, diminishing her soul.



Inside her it was as if death didn’t exist, as if love could weld her, as if eternity were renewal.

Inside her it was as if death didn’t exist, as if love could weld her, as if eternity were renewal.



I can feel myself holding a child, thought Joanna. Sleep, my child, sleep, I tell you. The child is warm and I am sad.

I can feel myself holding a child, thought Joanna. Sleep, my child, sleep, I tell you. The child is warm and I am sad.



- How does it feel to have a daughter?- At times it's like holding a warm egg in my hand.

- How does it feel to have a daughter?- At times it's like holding a warm egg in my hand.





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O'er Egypt's land of memory floods are level, And they are thine, O Nile! and well thou knowest The soul-sustaining airs and blasts of evil, And fruits, and poisons spring where'er thou flowest.

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The U.S. should take notes: Government overspending and a campaign of alienating investors and small business isn't really the best way to boost the economy or overcome massive unemployment.

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This page presents the quote "Where does music go when it’s not playing?—she asked herself. And disarmed she would answer: May they make a harp out of my nerves when I die.". Author of this quote is Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart. .