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Sándor Márai Biography

Sándor Márai (originally Sándor Károly Henrik Grosschmied de Mára, archaically English: Alexander Márai; 11 April 1900 – 21 February 1989) was a Hungarian writer and journalist.

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Sándor Márai Quotes

You would like to read, but somehow the rain gets into the book, too; not literally, and yet it really does, the letters are meaningless, and all you hear is the rain. You would like to play the piano, but the rain comes to sit alongside and play an accompaniment. And then the dry weather returns, which is to say there is steam and bright light. People age quickly.

Rain, Book, Light, Meaningless, Play, Somehow

And I've been waiting for you, because I couldn't do anything else. And we've both known that we would meet again, and then it would be all over with life and everything that gave our existence meaning and tension. A secret of the kind that lurks between the two of us has extraordinary power. It burns through the fabric of life like a scorching beam, and yet at the same time it also gives it tensile strength. It forces us to live.

Fabric Of Life, Two, Giving, Everything, Time, Scorching

I have started to think that the great, decisive moments that broadly govern our lives are far less conscious at the time than they seem later when we are reminiscing and taking stock.

Broadly, Lives, Moments, Reminiscing, Think, Thinking

Vienna, to me it was the tuning fork for the entire world. Saying the word Vienna was like striking a tuning fork and then listening to find what tone it called forth in the person I was talking to. It was how I tested people. If there was no response, this was not the kind of person I liked. Vienna wasn't just a city, it was a tone that either one carries forever in one's soul or one does not. It was the most beautiful thing in my life. I was poor, but I was not alone, because I had a friend.

Beautiful, Talking, Cities, Tested, Alone, Soul

Is disinterest not the essence of every human relationship?

Essence, Disinterest, Humans, Human, Relationship

Whether life finds us guilty or not guilty, we ourselves know we are not innocent.

Divorce, Heartfelt, Guilty, Life, Know

And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, because guilt does not reside in our acts but in the intentions that give rise to our act. Everything turns on our intentions.

Act, Acts, Doe, Giving, Guilt, Turns

No, the secret is that there's no reward and we have to endure our characters and our natures as best we can, because no amount of experience or insight is going to rectify our deficiencies, our self-regard, or our cupidity. We have to learn that our desires do not find any real echo in the world. We have to accept that the people we love do not love us, or not in the way we hope. We have to accept betrayal and disloyalty, and, hardest of all, that someone is finer than we are in character or intelligence.

Accept, Betrayal, Character, Insight, Real, Secret

It is not true that fate slips silently into our lives. It steps in through the door that we have opened, and we invite it to enter. No one is strong enough or cunning enough to avert by word or deed the misfortune that is rooted in the iron laws of his character and his life.

Character, Door, Fate, Invite, Life, Strong

She said she never wanted to have secrets from me nor from herself, which is why she wanted to write down everything that otherwise would be hard to talk about. As I said, later I understood that someone who flees into honesty like that fears something, fears that her life will fill with something that can no longer be shared, a genuine secret, indescribable, unutterable.

Flees, Honesty, Like, Secret, Secrets, Writing

One has to endure betrayal and disloyalty and, hardest of all , another person's excellence of character or intellect

Betrayal, Character, Excellence, Intellect

We all of us must come to terms with what and who we are, and recognize that this wisdom is not going to earn us any praise, that life is not going to pin a medal on us for recognizing and enduring our own vanity or egoism or baldness or our potbelly.

Egoism, Life Is, Vanity, Who We Are, Wisdom

There is no pain like the pain of knowing you love someone but cannot live with them.

Pain, Knowing, No Pain, Like, Love

London is a huge, stony desert: even boredom feels endless there.

Boredom, Desert, London, Stony

Everything your students need to know about philosophy communicated in a way that appeals to them, as well as inspire many of them to the study of philosophy.

Appeals, Communicated, Inspire, Needs, Philosophy, Study

Time is a purgatory that has cleansed all fury from my memories.

Cleansed, Fury, Memories, Purgatory, Time

Sándor Márai Biography

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