7 junio, 2024

The 75 best phrases of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

I leave you the best phrases of Sor Juana Inés de la Cruzknown as Juana Inés de Asbaje y Ramírez de Santillana, a brilliant woman from a young age, born in New Spain (colonial Mexico).

She was a woman who, oppressed by the society of the time, became a religious to have access to education, to later become one of the most prominent exponents of poetry and literature of the Golden Age. You may also be interested in these phrases of great writers.

-I do not study to know more, but to ignore less.

-Without clarity there is no voice of wisdom.

-There are many who study to ignore.

-Even knowledge tires when it is knowledge by trade.

-In a lover there is no laughter that is not altered with tears.

– Foolish men who accuse women without reason, without seeing that you are the occasion of the same thing you blame.

– Triumphant I want to see the one who kills me; And I kill whoever wants to see me triumphant.

-Knowledge consists only in choosing the healthiest.

-Who listens and learns, it is a good reason to listen and shut up.

-The brightest of appearances can cover the most vulgar realities.

-With understanding everything is supplied.

– Just as no one wants to be less than another, so no one confesses: because it is a consequence of being more.

-I feel a serious agony to achieve a dalliance, which begins as desire and ends in melancholy.

-This loving torment that is seen in my heart, I know that I feel it, and I do not know the cause why I feel it.

-All those who are chosen by some means for some end, are held to be of lesser appreciation than the end to which they are directed.

-Perfect the work with our infinite love, so that the end of his life does not contradict the beginning.

-From the most fragrant rose the most beautiful bee was born, to whom the clean dew gave purest matter.

– Considering it better in my truths to consume vanities of life than to consume life in vanities.

-With little offended cause, I usually, in the midst of my love, deny a slight favor to whoever gave him life.

– Let my eyes see you, because you are their light, and only for you I want to have them.

-The soul that walks in love, neither tires nor gets tired.

-He who suffers from love, from him divine to be touched.

-From seeing that I hate and love you, I infer that no one can be in the highest degree, since hate cannot have won without first losing love.

– But I for better party choose from who I don’t want, to be a violent employment, than from who doesn’t want me, vile dispossession.

-Love begins with restlessness, solicitude, ardor and sleeplessness; it grows with risks, hauls and misgivings; hold on to crying and begging.

-Love, that my attempts helped, overcame what seemed impossible: because between the crying, that the pain poured, the broken heart distilled.

– How haughty in your pomp, presumed, arrogance, the risk of dying you disdain; and then, fainting and shrunken, you give weak signs of your expired being!

-I feel bad of the same good with suspicious fear, and perhaps the same love forces me to show disdain.

-And so, love, in vain your crazy effort tries to offend me: well, I will be able to say, seeing me expire without giving myself up, that you managed to kill me but you could not defeat me.

-And although virtue is so strong, I fear that perhaps they will defeat it. That custom is very great and virtue is very tender.

-But without a doubt, strength is invincible of love.

I constantly adore whom my love mistreats; I mistreat whom my love constantly seeks.

-If with unequaled eagerness you solicit their disdain, why do you want them to do good if you incite them to do evil.

-I never find pleasure fulfilled, because between relief and pain I find guilt in love and excuses in oblivion.

-Which is more to blame, even if anyone does wrong, the one who sins for the pay, or the one who pays to sin?

-If the magnet of your thanks, attractive, serves my chest of obedient steel, why do you make me fall in love flattering, if you have to mock me later as a fugitive?

-In persecuting me, world, what are you interested in? How do I offend you, when I only try to put beauties in my understanding and not my understanding in beauties?

-It is composed of marigold flowers, divine American protector, which to become a Mexican rose, appearing as a Castilian rose.

-Everyone is opinion of such diverse opinions, that what the one that is black proves that the other is white.

-For everything there is proof and reason on which to found it; and there is no reason for anything, if there is reason for so much.

-It was a passion for the gaze, and in his gaze were the eyes before time; His father says that time is melancholy, and when it stops we call it eternity.

-Stop, shadow of my elusive good, image of the spell I love the most, beautiful illusion for whom I die joyfully, sweet fiction for whom I live painfully.

-This afternoon, my love, when I spoke to you, as in your face and in your actions I saw that with words I did not persuade you, that the heart wanted you to see me.

-Signs come out to the mouth of what the heart burns, that nobody, nobody will believe the fire if the smoke does not give signs.

-I do not value treasures or riches, and thus, it always makes me happier to put riches in my understanding than not my understanding in riches.

– Well with many weapons I found that your arrogance deals, because in promise and request you join devil, flesh and world.

-If Aristotle had cooked, he would have written much more.

-I can’t have you or leave you, I don’t know why, when I leave you or when I have you, there is an I don’t know what to love you and many I do know what to forget you.

-In the happy night, in secret, that nobody saw me, nor did I look at anything, without any other light or guide but the one that burned in my heart.

-To the one who leaves me ungrateful, I seek a lover; The lover who follows me, I leave ungrateful.

-I do not doubt, Lisarda, that I love you, although I know that you have wronged me; but I am so loving and so angry, that I do not prefer affections that I distinguish.

– With what, with learned death and foolish life, living deceit and dying teach!

– Well, why are you scared of the guilt you have? Want them as you do or do them as you seek.

-I have never written anything of my own free will, but because of other people’s requests and precepts, in such a way that I do not remember having written for my pleasure if it is not a piece of paper that they call “the dream”.

-If giving you pleasure commands me the obligation, it is unfair that for giving you pleasure I have to be sorry.

-Tell me rapacious victor, vanquished of my constancy, what has your arrogance taken to alter my firm peace?

-That although you leave mocked the tight bow that your fantastic form attached, it matters little to mock arms and chest if my fantasy carves you prison.

-What humor can be rarer than the one that, lacking advice, he himself tarnishes the mirror, and feels that it is not clear?

-It is also a vice to know that if it is not stopped, the less it is known, the havoc is more harmful.

-When I see my error and your vileness, I contemplate, Silvio, of my mistaken love, how serious is the malice of sin, how violent the force of a desire.

-If my understanding is mine, why do I always find it so clumsy when it comes to relief, so sharp when it comes to harm?

– Your loving sorrows give wings to their liberties, and after making them bad, you want to find them very good.

-What greater fault has had in a mistaken passion, the one that falls begged, or the one that begs for fallen?

-Only jealousy ignores pretense factories, which, since they are crazy, have the property of real ones.

-The one who tried to love found a diamond; and I am a diamond to the one who treats me with love; if at this payment, suffer my desire; if I beg that one, my pride anger; Either way, I look unhappy.

-These verses, my reader, that I consecrate to your delight, and they are only good because I know that they are bad, I do not want to dispute them, nor do I want to recommend them, because that would be wanting to pay much attention to them.

-I would very much like, when I get to see you, seeing my infamous love to be able to deny it; but then just reason warns me that I only remedy myself by publishing it; because of the great crime of loving you alone it is quite worth confessing it.

-Divine rose that in gentle culture you are with your fragrant subtlety, purple magistery in beauty, snowy teaching to beauty; feint of human architecture, example of the vain kindness in whose being nature united the happy cradle and sad grave.

-You are always so foolish that with unequal level you blame one for being cruel and another for being easy. Well, how should the one that your love pretends be temperate, if the one that is ungrateful offends and the one that is easily angered?

-Son and mother, in such divine pilgrim competitions, neither is left in debt and both remain obligated. Well, if that’s why weeping, let Jesus cry, congratulations, for what he expends in dew he will charge later in nectar.

-Up here you have to write down the day of my death, month and year. I beg, for the love of God and His Most Pure Mother, to my beloved sisters, the nuns that they are and in what follows, to commend me to God, for I have been and am the worst there has ever been.

Enough of rigors, my goodness, enough, no more tyrannical jealousy torment you, nor the vile suspicion your stillness contrasts with foolish shadows, with vain indications: because already in liquid humor you saw and touched my undone heart between your hands.

-And if you think that the soul that loved you must always be tied to your hobby, I will warn you of your vain satisfaction. If the love of hate has given way, the one who went down from high to being remiss of the remiss will become nothing.

I feel a tyrannical longing for the occasion to which I aspire, and when I look at her close I remove my hand myself. Because if by chance she offers herself, after so much sleeplessness, distrust or fright dismays her and she vanishes.

-Divided into two parts, my soul is in confusion: one, a slave to passion, and the other, to measured reason. Civil war, on fire, afflicts the importunate chest, wants to defeat each one, and among such various fortunes, both opposites will die, but none will win.

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