Best 31 quotes of Dacia Maraini on MyQuotes

Adults don't know how to respect and really love their young ones. Often love is confused with possession. You say "this is my" about your child, without taking into account that you're dealing with a real person with his/her own personality, rights, and autonomy, even when very young.

Aging has brought me greater liberty in fiction. When I was young I was harder on myself. I wrote with an idea of absolute seriousness.

A painter's hand has a thirst for thieving, it steals from heaven and makes a gift to the memories of men, it feigns eternity and it delights in this pretence almost as if it had created rules of its own, more durable and more profoundly true.

A winter without snow seems depressing, lacking.

A woman has to demonstrate in every moment to be thirty times better than a man, to gain trust and to be considered. So, she has to be tenacious, combattative but not aggressive, she has to love her work a lot and not let herself be discouraged by the daily discriminiation she encounters.

A writer is first and foremost a witness of her time. She must tell the truth, not take a political position. But then the truth that she discovers is profoundly political.

Characters simply come and find me. They sit down, I offer them a coffee. They tell me their story and then they almost always leave. When a character, after drinking some coffee and briefly telling her story, wants dinner and then a place to sleep and then breakfast and so on, for me the time has come to write the novel.

Don't wait for success, but for the respect and interest of those who read you. At the start it could be a classmate, someone who shares your interests. Before sending off the manuscript for a novel to a publishing house, it would be a good idea to try writing short stories, and publishing them in a local magazine.

For my whole life I have dedicated myself to those who have been subjected to injustice. I've conducted investigations and written in newspapers about the homeless, the incarcerated, the sick excluded from care, about child labor, child exploitation, etc.

Friendship is a form of love. In fact, you don't know how it starts or why. It is subject to the caprices of time. It can grow or die without a reason. It can last a lifetime.

I also really loved the sea when I was young, when I lived in Sicily, but unfortunately the sea here has been reduced to a trash dump. It's a horrible pain going to the beach; you risk getting an infection or getting tar all over you.

I consider myself an aware person who is sensitive to injustice.

I dream of continuing to dream.

In a novel there's not much autobiography. There are characters in transit. Naturally, I can project something of my experiences onto the characters, but they have their own autonomy, a personality that is often a mystery to me.

I try to cultivate friendships, because they are great assets. And I tend to make them last over time. Nevertheless sometimes they end mysteriously and you don't really know for what reason. Just like loves.=

It's easier to change a law than an age-old mentality. Deep down, many prejudices, many hostilities, many fears persist. But if we take a look at all the peoples in the world, we have to realize that the condition of women is very backward and sometimes very sad, from both the social and psychological points of view.

It's enough for a small betrayal, a distancing, an affirmation of independence to provoke wrath, fear and also hatred from the adult. How many husbands and boyfriends kill the woman they say they love because she has decided to leave. It's in the news every day.

One writes what one lives, even if not in a literal way. Someone who has gone through an unhappy love tends to describe unhappy loves, even if they have nothing to do with their own.

Since the journey is a metaphor - the most ambiguous and seductive of metaphors, we tell ourselves - it can also be born of immobility. There is no need to drag our bodies around so much, all dressed up. It's hot, there are flies, diseases. It is enough to close our eyes, seated on a chair in the shade, to float on the waves of imagination. Isn't that what books are there for?

Success is something you should never take into consideration: if you follow it it'll elude you. It's important to really love your work as a writer, to read loads to the point where you can recognise blindfolded, hearing them read, the writers of yesterday and today. It's important to write every day, for hours. To have faith in your imagination and let it wander.

There are still countries where women don't enjoy basic rights like the vote or the freedom to study or the freedom of choice in marriage. Every year there are twenty million little girls in Africa who are deprived of their sexuality through brutal genital operations. Basically, there's still much to be done.

To leave a book is like leaving the better part of oneself.

What strikes me most of all in Christian culture, which is supposed to be concerned with the rights of the weakest, is the lack of regard toward animals. Maybe because they're thought to be soulless.

When I look around me, I see mostly women who are alone, left by their husbands after their kids grew up, for a younger woman, which is the most common thing, or suddenly abandoned after getting married and left with young children.

While on the level of civil rights many things have changed decisively for the better, on the level of attitudes and mentality there's still a long way to go. On the other hand it's obvious that it's much easier to change a law than to change a way of thinking.

Writing is a solitary activity, it requires isolation and silence.

Cosa farei senza libri? Ne ho la casa piena, eppure non mi bastano mai. Vorrei avere una giornata di trentasei ore per poter leggere a mio piacere. Tengo libri di tutte le dimensioni: da tasca, da borsa, da valigia, da taschino, da scaffale, da tavolo. E ne porto sempre uno con me. Non si sa mai: se trovo un momento di tempo, se mi fanno aspettare in un ufficio, che sia alla posta o dal medico, tiro fuori il mio libro e leggo. Quando ho il naso su una pagina non sento la fatica dell'attesa. E, come dice Ortega y Gasset, in un libro mi "impaeso", a tal punto che mi è difficile spaesarmi. Esco dai libri con le pupille dilatate. Lo considero il piacere più grande, più sicuro, più profondo della mia vita.

Di mafia non si parlava mai allora, tutti sapevano che esisteva una forza maligna capace di imporre la sua volontà col coltello e col fucile. Ma chi stringesse quel coltello e chi imbracciasse quel fucile era difficile dirlo. D'altronde, per chi lo sapeva, era meglio fare finta di non averlo mai saputo. I maggiorenti del paese, signori che giravano per i marciapiedi in giacca di pigiama col cappello a larghe falde in testa, negavano che esistesse questa mafia. E quando pronunciavano la parola, piegavano le labbra in giù, come per sputare. Portavano le mani all'aria e dicevano ridacchiando: favole sunnu… roba per turisti… E con questo il paese si richiudeva nella sua vita quotidiana, fatta di soprusi, di sofferenze, di torti subiti in silenzio, di cose taciute e mai dette, come fosse il più felice dei paesi.

Her gaze dims as her nostalgia for Palermo overcomes her. Those smells of seaweed dried by the sun, of capers, of ripe figs, she will never find them anywhere else; those burnt and scented shores, those waves slowly breaking, jasmine petals flaking in the sun.

I’d bite myself and take out my feelings with my teeth.

Mi vergognavo di appartenere, da parte di madre, a una famiglia così antica e nobile. Non veniva proprio da loro, da quelle famiglie avide, ipocrite, rapaci, gran parte del male dell'isola? Odiavo la loro incapacità atavica di cambiare, di vedere la verità, di capire gli altri, di farsi da parte, di agire con umiltà. E la sola idea di dividere qualcosa con loro, fosse solo un'involontaria somiglianza, mi disgustava. Eppure, mio nonno era così lontano dallo stereotipo del nobile presuntuoso e arrogante da farmi pensare di essere stata ingiusta, forse per giovanili innamoramenti ideologici, con lui. E' sempre limitativo e stupido cacciare le persone dentro una categoria, che sia una classe o un sesso. Non fare i conti con l'imprevedibile è da citrulli.