Quotes by Wass Albert

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What is beautiful passes away and is replaced only by what is ugly.

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Ferenc showed the combs, the assignment of the hives, explained the life of the bees, their diligence, obedience, and law. - Like people - the woman marveled - just like people! Like the people living in the village. - No - Ferenc shook his head - people are selfish, and these are not selfish. People are envious, and these are not envious. People dig against each other, and they help each other in their work. This is how people should be if they were all true Christians. But where are they?

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They collect, much more than they need, they just collect and collect, and they don't even know why anymore. Just like people. (...) If I work, I do it to live. But they live so that they can work forever on something that no longer makes sense. And in the end, they don't even live, they just work, work. Until they die. Like people who live in villages and cities and work all their lives, they carry a lot of things around them, and they don't even have time to enjoy life.

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Every person has a path to walk. You can't get away from it. People believe that those who live under the same roof share the same path. But this is not so. It's not about the roof, it's about the roads. The cover does not hold the roads together if they were not started in such a way that they could travel side by side for a long time.

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Man is born somewhere. That family. He sees someone, feels that he loves him, moves in with him under the same roof, and has children. This is the family.

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One thinks that one has arranged fate very cleverly. But fate cannot be arranged. Something happens all at once, suddenly, one day when you don't even expect it, and everything turns upside down. It's over. It's over. Fate cannot be arranged. Fate arranges a person.

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There was no way he could imagine this Good God. He must be somewhere, because people keep mentioning him, and the prayer and the candle are addressed to him. They say it's up in the sky. Maybe somewhere above the blue? Maybe just in the sun? No, it can't be. Then there would be no God at night, even though God must always be there to watch over good people.

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Those who are about to meet death must make friends with it. At first he only rarely thinks about it, then more and more often. At first, he just avoids her out of fear, later he gets used to her, and deals with her more and more often: this is already friendship. Eventually you realize it's not so bad. This is a part of life, like many other things that people are used to.

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Man was born to suffer, to struggle, but he should have a woman by his side, a child, a family by his side, because otherwise there is no point in suffering.

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Is that all life is all about? Man wants something, builds, loads, strives for this and that... and then it's over.

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The fire was burning inside, and the evening was somehow so homely, and the thought that all this will not happen someday... The trees are standing here, looking at the house, and the house will be empty. Its roof is collapsing, its beams are rotting, its door is knocked down by the wind, and one post at a time still stands from the corral, and whoever passes by sees it and says: someone once lived here. And then it goes on. And he sees the clearing, the trees, the stream, and His Throne, and everything will be just as it is now... except there's no one sitting on the threshold, because someone who was here is gone.

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I would like to be what I most want to be one day. If someone once said: I felt sorry for your sorrow, your disbelief, your fuss, And I will give you what is dearest to you: Your destiny, your self-life. I give you your creation.

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The direction: to make the world aware of what happened to us, and to make Hungarians aware that we have a duty.

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Life is not that simple. Nothing is simple: neither the dawn, when the golden-tipped spears of the sun shatter the veil of night, nor the dusk, when the lights die. Man is born without having any desire for it, and in the capricious game of dawns and dusks, he exchanges joy and sorrow, builds and destroys, alternately speaks nonsense and wisdom.

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Then he saw an ant among the moss. He was a tiny little yellow ant and he was carrying a huge pine needle. He was stuck with it, he struggled. "I wonder where it will lead? What a great will it has! How many wills there are in the world, below and above and everywhere. Many kinds of busy mixed wills, which all move something forward... but how much and where, who knows?..."

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Dirty water also has a clear surface. The filth only comes out after we pour it all out.

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I have thought through many strange things in life at every time, and every time has matured different thoughts. Human life is strange and mysterious.

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They say that our countryside is monotonous, and that's why we are such slow and boring people. They might be right. We are slow and boring. We don't rush towards nebulous goals, and we don't have colorful adventure plans. The flow of our life undulates gently up and down, between sorrow and joy, gently, as the line of our hills undulates around us, which we believe are always the same, and yet always different.

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It is very difficult to keep promises and not cry when someone who is dearer than anything else leaves... and not to wait until the last minute for the trains to leave. After that, one remains alone in the big, dark, foggy life anyway.

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Only the mess we create radiates homeliness towards us, the mess of others awakens sour moods.

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Every road has an end somewhere. And it is a human characteristic that we turn back at the end of the road and wonder about the meaning of our lives. Not until then, but then yes. Until then, we just go instinctively and sometimes blindly, after a clue, a goal, an idea. We will wonder why in the end, when the road runs out from under our feet and our legs run out of strength. Maybe one day I'll realize that it was all aimless haste, and it would have been better to do nothing. But there is still a lot of time until then.

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I am never angry with people if they believe things differently than I do, because I know that their truth is just as much truth from their point of view as mine. (...) Among the many small truths of life, perhaps the truth is not the most important. But the peace with which we shake hands over the truth.

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The child's soul is like a mirror, which alternately turns in new and new directions and looks for light, the light of suns, moons, stars, or flickering candles, which it can reflect back on itself.

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We can only reach the truth through ourselves.

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People leave when they are no longer needed. Not until. (...) And I am no longer needed.

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You must not kill what lives (...), life is worth more than anything.

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There are truths that must be forgotten along with the past if one wants to live in this world.

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Tact is the diplomacy of coexistence.

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Gratitude is a feeling, and as such, it is intangible, immeasurable and cannot be expressed in terms of human values. You only have the right to account if you owe it to someone else. This is the job of your conscience.

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It is enough if you lie down to rest for ten minutes after lunch. It is enough if you go to your workplace slowly and comfortably and sometimes stop to look at a tree, a flower or a bird. It's enough if you sit on the bench for half an hour longer than you planned for yourself in advance. Because the sun is shining beautifully and the breeze has a pleasant, warm smell of flowers. It's enough if you don't work every seventh day, you just enjoy being alive and that the world you live in is beautiful.

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If you steal something from someone, you can never repay it. And this time! If you steal someone's time, you've stolen it in a way that you can never make up for. No power on earth can bring back the time spent waiting. No, it's over, it's over. It was lost forever, and it was you who caused the irreparable loss.

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What was good before is now bad. What was wisdom before is now theft, and what was theft before is now law. And all this together is called socialism.

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A teardrop on your eyelid in the evening: it's me. And I am the curious star that winks and shines at you. The kiss, your kiss, that's me too. I'm dreaming your dream, I melt in your embrace, only I know all your little secrets.

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Think about it: you have to build peace in this world. And peace can only be built through goodwill.

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If you wanted to play the laws of nature: you would kill who you are.

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Man alone is incapable of making the beauties of life permanent. To grasp and evaluate what is beautiful, good, pleasant and comforting in life. Not that he doesn't see it. He sees it, but he has nothing to do with it. (...) It takes at least two people's joint feelings to make beauty beautiful, and joy is joy.

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It's good if we can relax without thinking that everything that is beautiful is for us and maybe ends with us. We do no harm to either the dawn or the dusk, if we know its color and mood as our own. We are passengers, but this should only come to mind when difficult moments and dark hours are upon us. If the colors of our gentle landscapes are marred by storms, covered by fog, buried by winds. If we get to ugly and difficult places, where it is not even possible to trudge through with a thousand burdens of the sense of ownership. In such cases, it is good to think about death from afar, as a slightly strange, slightly sad, but comfortable and reassuring itinerary. And to look at the world as animals look at it. The deer, the deer, and the bears. Like some beautiful foreign thing that one walks past and while changing from one thicket to another, delights in what is worth admiring.

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The stars stood densely in the sky and twinkled, as if there were so many eyes looking at the earth. (...) They are eyes, the eyes of dead people, who look back on what was dear to them in this life. And every time a person dies down here, one more star lights up up there, and every time a person is born, a star runs away to earth.

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There are moments in life when you are inescapably alone. In such cases, you don't have a partner, you don't have family, you don't have friends: you're alone. You have to solve certain questions on your own, no one can help you, no one can do it for you. I can also express this by saying that you have to take on something in life, some risk, some responsibility, alone, with your own strength.

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I was a weird, wild child living on my own. I was brought up outwardly, and as a result I often deceived those around me, who, with amiable zeal, tired of dispelling my loneliness, and devised many kinds of fun to make me laugh. I laughed at them, diligently and politely, but inside I was thinking about something else entirely and I didn't pay attention to them. I lived my own separate inner life, and because there was no one to whom I could tell, this life inside me slowly grew, became wide and big like a black game garden, and closed those with whom I lived with a wall from me.

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Love and peace, my son, can fit in the smallest hut. Not all happy people live in big houses.

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There is no point in constantly looking into the past and wondering about the memories of days gone by. But if you were to put your mind to such a thing... don't tell the end result, so as not to burden others with your own sadness.

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One day your children and grandchildren will do exactly what we did: move a few hundred miles west to escape and find a world that has not yet been corrupted by greed... But what if we run out of space and can't they go on?

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A bright star was burning above us, and your two eyes were two stars... I looked into him: he looked back and forth... and encouraged and asked questions.

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The past is not always the past. Sometimes it affects far into the future.

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It's easier to bear bad things alone than together. But it is impossible to carry the good alone.

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Man roams the world like a restless wild animal, searching for something. But as soon as he finds it, he wants to take advantage of it, and in doing so, he spoils things. Because the world is not meant to benefit anyone. The world is meant to be beautiful, peaceful, good. To be able to live in it, with effort, but without benefit. Because the meaning of life is beauty. And profit is the most useless word ever invented by man. Today, however, he is so used to it that when he sees something beautiful, he immediately thinks: what could I use this for? And that is why what he builds with such a goal will soon fall down. Most of the time, it is taken down by another person, who is jealous of the benefit, and nothing remains in its place, only a patch of nettles: the eternal mark of a person.

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Sometimes it is so good to look for an angel and, looking for an angel, to look for God's chariot among the stars. To go in front of him in celebration, to immerse yourself in the lake of fairy tales and to forget this world deeply, deeply in the lake of fairy tales.

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There was once a man who built a pillar for his God in the courtyard of his house. But he did not carve the pillar from marble, he did not build it from stone, but from thousands upon thousands of tiny, glittering grains of sand, and he bound the grains of sand together with mist. And the people who saw him passing by laughed at him and said: he is a fool. (...) And no matter how many winds came, none of them overthrew it, but each of them neatly avoided the pillar, which was built by faith. And the people who saw this whispered in amazement and said: He is a sorcerer. And one day they rushed into his court and knocked down his pillar. And the man did not curse or cry, but went out again to his court and with faith in his heart began to build a new pillar for his God.

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In the blinding brightness, the Hungarian saints fell to their knees one by one and tears of gratitude flowed from their eyes. They rolled across the bright blue padimentum, fell out somewhere and fell to the ground. And every drop fell on the forehead of a newborn.

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People play with words. Just like children with toy blocks. But words are more dangerous than dice. You can't collect them and put them in the chest if the game goes wrong. The words remain forever where we placed them in the mood of the first moments. They are invisible and intangible, and therefore the wrong we have done to them cannot be corrected. People play with words incredibly lightly.

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What is important? Life. Nothing else but that one. Life: a calm and contented life, in which a person makes peace with himself and the world, and does not long for anything or anywhere, not even for time to pass. This could perhaps be called happiness, but it is not. Happiness is already unsettling and worrying. Fear that it will end someday. Tranquility is infinity itself, a wise, gentle, humane life: it goes on in such a way that if it were to end in the middle, one would not even notice it.

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Mists smelling of gunpowder cover the future and my country. Here too, the bark of the birch tree is white, and butterflies accompany the lily of the valley. And yet: with all the flower bells, scents, colors, lights and sounds, the old forest draws you to it.

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We were a free people, independent of anyone, a big, strong nation. Maybe we will never be like that again. But we finished it the way it should, the way it should: we finished it with a battle, a beautiful battle.

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He doesn't even realize it, the pencil is drawn and the papers are full, gray letters are lined up and each of them preserves an almost forgotten sunbeam, sentences are lined up and a wasted summer pulsates in them, arcs are filled with hidden fire, on them it burns and riots and rages and agonizes sad man's youth.

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A house that is built to be a home for a family and is built in such a way and is built by those who want it to be a home around them: that house will become a home. And it will be a good home, and it will be a home for many for a long time: men and women and children and children's children. But a house that isn't built that way, and isn't built by them, (...) no woman comes to such a house in vain, such a house will not be a long-lasting peaceful home for anyone.

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Now I have learned that I am not asking God to fulfill what I have planned, but to help me understand the meaning of what he is doing to me.

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Someone will enter my life who is a hundred times more than my life. I have a dream here: especially beautiful, and especially, yet it hurts me...

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The priests try to make people believe that hell and heaven are somewhere in the afterlife, in some unknown place, (...) but this is foolishness, indeed foolishness. Both hell and heaven are here in us, every day of our lives. If we follow the path of bias and do evil, the devil moves into us and oppresses our souls. If we choose the path of understanding and do what is right and good, then we have the peace of heaven in us, and no matter what happens, no one can take this inner peace away from us.

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A person's soul is like a diamond that needs to be polished over a long period of time until its full shine and beauty is cleared. Whoever has a fault must come back to earth again and again to correct that fault.

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If you once say that you will be there somewhere at this time and that time, and yet you are not there, then you can only have one excuse. Something terrible happened and you perished. Because, if you're still alive, even just a little bit, you're still giving news in some way about why you can't be where they're waiting for you. Because time is the most precious treasure of human life, it cannot be replaced with anything. And whoever keeps others waiting steals time from them. If you only steal money from others, you can make amends. But the stolen time cannot be replaced with anything.

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It is comfortable to be sick when you are surrounded by discomfort. If you are young, you have to work hard. With mind and muscle, with all your might. This is the only way to get out of trouble, with work.

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One must remain true to oneself and one's past when loyalty can only be found in museums.

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My job is to build a bridge between the past and the future. And to incorporate into the pillars of this bridge everything that is worth transferring from the past to the future.

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This is the war. People who don't even know anything about each other are killing each other.

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Friendship is not for convincing someone of the truth of one's point of view, it is only suitable for understanding other people's points of view.

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People come to you from the past, eyes meet, words buzz. And you yearn immeasurably to return to the place from which fate tore you away. It hurts, I know. The torn roots of your soul bleed at this time. And this pain often returns.

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You have a right to life, just like a butterfly. (...) You have the right to think freely about the things of the world, to choose between beautiful and ugly, good and bad. You have the right to be brave and honest. To be honest, to be true.

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There is something in the world and above the world that cannot be changed anyway, neither by fire, nor by blood, nor by hatred. And this is the law of life, which is rooted in truth.

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You will soon realize that what hurts you (...) is just a memory. And because it's a memory, it doesn't even hurt. Because it's nice that it was all there, and it was the way you remember it. It's good to have something to remember, which is nice.

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You can't make up for anything anyway, you can't make up for the broken things in life by making things worse.

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Friendship doesn't ask for, doesn't demand, and doesn't know sacrifices either.

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It's trouble to be human, a double trouble for a real person. And being a true Hungarian is such a burden that those who carry it a lot become stronger.

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It is not about what we are willing and able to do against each other, but what we can achieve together.

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Love is more than anything and is stronger than anything. Even with the law, which is kept written in books.

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He who looks at the seed, does not see the clod under his feet, and he who entrusts his land to others, loses it. And the most important thing: whoever owns the land, owns the country!

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Without a wise mind and a peace-loving heart, strength and courage are of little value, and they can easily serve evil instead of good.

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Hatred creates evil, and evil is the enemy of life.

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He was barely seventeen years old when he was told his first confession by a downcast-eyed student who had been preparing for days and weeks to utter this single sentence. And laughingly she gave herself to another, just so that the next day she could tear her flowers apart laughingly and stab her in the eye with a laugh: I don't need you anymore. (...) He laughed his whole life away. It lacked something, like the night lacks light. Because his laugh was not a laugh of joy, just some sharp, bitter outburst of anger, some unbridled animal passion. Because it was missing something. You didn't even know, maybe you didn't even feel it. Even the night does not feel that there is no sunlight in it.

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He who has restless desires is not happy. Happiness is when we don't want anything.

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Because life is something very strange. It binds a person to the earth, to the bend of a valley, or to the side of a hill, in such a way that even when life is difficult and miserable, a person slowly grows attached to it, puts down roots in it and slowly begins to feel it as home even if it is a stranger.

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Culture does not mean that you have a toothbrush and can turn on the gramophone. A cultured person can see and feel the beautiful and the good.

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All people have the same goal as you: they want to live in a human way. He wants peace and quiet. At home, that is, a pile of garbage, on which he is the rooster that crows. However, there is more to the rooster than the trash heap. And so you must share the hill and the crowing among yourselves.

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You have lost all your possessions. The flowers also lost their colorful jewels, only their bare roots remained underground. Don't think that now they will never bloom again.

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The leaves of the trees sprout again in spring and fall again in autumn. The flowers open again and wither again. Spring comes again, summer comes again, autumn comes again and winter comes again. And of course you say that it couldn't be otherwise, because that's the way it is. So why are you so desperate to start your life over again?

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Work, but not too much. Just as much as you need to live the way you want.

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Don't look for something that God has hidden from your eyes. A man knows everything in his time, and no one dies a minute earlier or a minute later than the time tells. Go home, do your work, and try to be clean and honest, because death is easier for them.

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You know, many times the words are just wrong. A person wants something good, and the words somehow come out differently, and it turns out to be completely different from what the person wanted. The words just come, you don't even think about them, you just say them. And the trouble is ready.

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Sometimes he was attacked by deep, unknown feelings, and his heart was torn and torn... because at such times he also felt that he had a heart that felt, suffered and hurt... at such times he felt endlessly alone and very, very empty... he felt at that time as if he was separated from the world, from the happy world of happy people, like someone who neither gives nor receives anything, because there is nothing in his soul to give and he has no one, no one to receive from.

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We are drops of water, insignificant gray specks, all of us. Sometimes we are up, sometimes we are down. Life is a sea. We are all always searching, searching for another drop of water in the big, terrible ocean. Sometimes we find it. We smooth out for a moment, then a wave comes and picks us up, or pulls us down into the depths, and we search, search again.

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He is used to the fact that every person is a foreign being on this earth, no matter how blood binds them to each other, their souls are terribly far apart. Each person only cares about his own feelings, because each person believes that the world is only for him, and that everything he has in this world is unnecessary if it does not serve his desires.

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Angels hover above the world. They bring the news that peace has landed! The Truth, the Goodness that we have been waiting for has been born: it has finally been born!

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The wings have grown, the nest is empty, The good old world was just a dream, And like a swallow to the twilight wind, Today, an army of students spread their wings.

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The past (...) is an integral and inseparable part of the present, just as the present is nothing but the beginning of the future.

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It got cool and they lit a fire. They spread the fur next to the fire and lay down on it. The sky was filled with stars, and later the moon came up. He put his head on the girl's lap, and the girl sang. (...) In the morning they chased each other in the dewy grass like deer. Then they dipped in the spring water. They splashed each other and laughed, and the forest rang with their laughter, and the trees, the squirrels, the birds, who saw them, wondered and happily asked each other: Has the beginning of the world returned? The happy time?

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Some people walk miles in the wrong direction without getting tired. Then, when you only have to take a few steps to get on a good path, you will be shocked. No way, that's how we humans are.

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Small things represent life, confusedly mixed up in us, just as the essence of a painting is not given by the figures on it, but by the bending of the lines and the mixed shades of the colors.

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And if you also feel sad once in a while, and you walk around in vain among people, no one will help you with your sadness, and you feel as if some great, great weight is sitting on your soul, and you get more and more tired every day, and maybe even you think you can't take it anymore: run away secretly to the lake one night. (...) If you stop with your sadness on the shore of the lake: the water will be as blue as it has never been before. You can hear the start of the quietest breeze, it will be so quiet, and as long as the reeds reach: every reed makes music just for you then. (...) Close your eyes, when your vision becomes very weak, then and suddenly you will see the birds dancing inside the fountain. And then, on that quiet evening, the lake itself will continue to tell you, continue where I left off. And then in the quiet evening, You forget, you will most certainly forget that you were sad.

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When I looked into your eyes, I feel that I looked a little far: because you are a relative of the Sun, and the Sun is my enemy.

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The girl in whom he trusted more than himself, who was more important to him than all the other things in the world, she gave her hand to someone else. (...) Somewhere everything collapsed then. He didn't know where he collapsed and what it was. All he felt was that many, many strong, invisible ropes were broken, and some invisible, huge thing collapsed and dragged the sun from the sky, the stars, the moon, the trees, everything, everything.

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He was in love. He was strangely and foolishly in love, since he was a strange and foolish man himself. He saw the meaning of his life in this love, and he believed in it with all his freed faith, with that tortured, sad faith that he had torn to shreds so early on by the many small thorns of life's evils.

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The people down there can't live without the chest. They do a little bit first and call it a cradle. Then they make a big one and call it a house. And they live in it. And they live in customs and laws and cannot move from the chest. And the last one is called a coffin. And they believe that without these chests there would be no people. From crate to crate. Everything from one chest to another chest. And at the end into the ground, and even then into a chest. That's their whole life. They are so bitter and do so much evil because they are bitter. The crate never lets them move the way they want. They can't move well.

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When I say the word "Transylvania", it includes everything: my heart, my soul, the molecules of my brain cells, everything I was, am and will be, from my tulip cradle to my headstone. It's in my blood. With all my writings, all my speeches, I always and everywhere fought for Transylvania. For Transylvania, which I know can never be mine, but can still belong to those who stayed there, suffered and faithfully persevered despite all the torments and trials. I am still fighting with all my remaining strength and effort to make Transylvania what it once was: the homeland of three free peoples, the land of equality before God and man, the land of decency and love of humanity.

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Whoever owns the land, owns the future... but the land can only belong to those who live with it, are close to it, who understand the word of the land... being Hungarian in the land of Transylvania means always being one step ahead... to be a little more in every way... to work more, to suffer more, to give more, to know more, to feel more, to think more... to be smarter, to be more flexible... to bend in the storm like the field candle tree, to bend to the ground when must... but never break! The pine splits, the oak tree breaks, but the candle bends like a steel spring and straightens again and again... In the land of Transylvania, only the candle-man has a future.

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It's strange how time moves on a person. Events, people, thoughts come and go, feelings ripple through one's soul, and then after a while nothing remains of them. They get lost all over life, like little useless things in the house. Here and there something breaks off from the person, some invisible little mental piece, gets stuck on a doorknob, a window sill, a rickety floor, a narrow walkway. We call such things memories, we honor them for a longer or shorter time, depending on how romantic we are. Then, beautifully and imperceptibly, they finally leave us behind, like old friends with a low voice, or like life, who started with us and somehow got left behind.

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Do you want to be rich? Think of the thrush and the ancient man. Think that you came into this world naked and you will return from it naked. You are a guest on this earth. You only have what you put under your skin and take away. He is rich who is healthy. Who is strong. The one who doesn't need anyone else. He who can cut down his tree, can cook his food, can make his bed and sleep well in it. Those who can work, have food to eat, clothes, shoes and a room that feels like home.

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You are a guest in the world, and this world is a beautiful host. It has sunlight, water, butterflies and birds. It has flowers, lots of them. Learn to enjoy them. Unfortunately, he also has a man. Try to care less about them and more about what is still miraculously left of the world's beauty, despite all the ravages of humanity.

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Poor people are those who don't know how to enjoy sunlight, water, air, flowers, food.

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And all of a sudden a small child spoke loudly in the back: "Mother! What is freedom?" The teacher was speechless. They all looked over. And the woman sighed and answered: "When the soldiers come home, my son." Oh, Snowy Old March...! Since then, how much blood has been spilled again, and how many times the bloody slogan "freedom" has been shouted among us with drunken throats! Is this freedom, people? Speakers, famous people! The living and the dead all wanted this...? And what will happen if one fine day a small child asks: "Dad, what is freedom...?" Oh, Snowy Old March...! Maybe then we too will sigh and say quietly: "my son, freedom is when we can all return home."

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Because my people. My kind. My blood! His pain burns inside me! God bless Attila's nation.

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My God, how time flies! Today we are still here, tomorrow we will no longer be, past and memory: everything is left behind.

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And I had a message for my friends who refuse my name today: if the wheel turns once again, I will still be your friend and there will be no revenge, hatred, or anger. We give each other a hand and go and become One Purpose and One Will.

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The righteous and the good will remain. The pure and the peaceful. Forests, mountains, lakes and people. Think carefully about who is doing what!

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Look ahead, but be careful not to step on other people's feet... do what is good, but compromise with what is necessary and useful, and keep in mind that for your people a living adviser, a living helping hand is worth ten dead ones with a hero who can no longer move a finger... and be careful, because the path of bias leads downwards, and those who go downwards are worthless.

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The biggest curse of humanity is bias, because bias blinds the vision and converts the masses in an evil direction. Human community can only be maintained on the basis of understanding, whether that community is a family, a nation or a country. Patience and understanding towards each other is the most important asset of society. Where this gets out of hand due to bias, everything collapses.

"

Home is where you come home to. Where someone is waiting in the evening. Where you know the scratches on the wall, the stains on the carpet, the small creaks of the furniture. Where you lie down in bed so that you don't just sleep, you relax. You don't just rest, you relax yourself. You relax life, people, everything. Home is where you are at home. It doesn't take much. One room is enough. If there are ten of you in it, that's fine. If all ten of you agree that you returned home when you returned home in the evening. It doesn't take much, just a room and a feeling. A very simple animal feeling: that I live here today. There is a bed that I sleep in, a chair that I sit on, a stove that gives me warmth. And that in this wide, big and strange world around me, this little place is not alien and is mine today. I feel good in it if I look out the window and it's raining or the wind is blowing. And that if I come here in the evening, I will find those who still belong to me. This is home. Everyone has a way of doing it. A narrow attic room can also be at home. Also a cellar. Even a tent made of twigs can be at home. If a person adds something of himself. A flower you found on the side of the road is enough. A photo you've carried in your pocket for years. A book on the table. An alarm clock. What do I know: a thousand little jokes stick to you on the road. (...) If you can feel all this: you are not homeless in the world.

"

The life of the nation is identical with culture, not with political events, which just pass over it like the wind. The identity of the culture and the nation is the power above all else, against which weapons are powerless and against which barbed wire loses its meaning.

"

I do what I have to do, what is good and appropriate to do, because the feeling of calm inside me confirms that I am on the right path. I wish my faith could grow to the size of a mustard seed to move mountains. And it's nice to think that maybe those mustard seeds that I planted in my books and scattered throughout my life will one day really move my mountains back from the Balkans to Central Europe, where they belong.

"

In grass, flowers, song, tree, birth and passing away, smile, tear, dust, treasure, where there is darkness, where light burns, there is no such height, no such depth in which He is not in it.

"

If one day the frenzy of great spiritual battles comes into my quiet, piney life, I know: I will be weaker than this old, lichen-bearded ascetic-pine.

"

The day is just around the corner, the only day of the year that officially belongs to love. Out of three hundred and sixty-five days, three hundred and sixty-four are your worries, your goals, your work, and only one of your love, and that too is the evening alone. Believe me, Unknown Reader, it should be the other way around. Three hundred and sixty-four days belong to love, and only one to other things, and even that has enough evening.

"

Towards the end of each year, the Lord God wants to remind people where the path of evil leads, and therefore in autumn the days start to get shorter, the darkness descends earlier every night and leaves later every morning, cold sets in and the waters freeze, and the reign of darkness slowly begins to suffocate the world. And we humans get scared and remember all the bad things we have done during the year, and when the shortest day comes and the Angel of Light descends among us to look for goodness, we all light the candles of the Christmas trees at the same time, so that the Lord God, when he looks down, see light on earth and forgive the evil in them because of the good in us.

"

I am the conscience of humanity in a tangled world.

"

Fulfilling all your desires: this is the greatest art of human life. Whoever succeeds is happy. However, for this it is important that you have few desires.

"

Have you ever stepped into an anthill? It doesn't mean much to you. Just a misstep. Just something soft under his feet, which he forgets the next second as he continues on his way. But the ants, they can't forget. For them, a world has collapsed.

"

And write that the winter was very long, but now it's over and the sheep are already lambing, and... and write that I'm waiting for him to come back from there... and that... can that everything is much more beautiful there than here, but here it is now spring, write that it is spring, and... write to him about the flowers, and about the birds, and that in the evening... write that a little he has built a nest among the firewood, and I have to get the wood from somewhere else, and that he is the only one missing... write this, Uncle Birtalan. That he is the only one missing.

"

Lord: I have always done bad, whenever I wanted good! Lord: if I am a diamond, why did I remain unpolished?

"

You are not to blame, but only God: because he also set limits to love. In fact, neither He nor anyone else is at fault. He just made it so: so that what is wood does not grow to the sky and what is love does not fade away.

"

Why do I always have to wander inside myself and say prayers for someone... and why do I always have to dream about you, if you don't love me, why? Why? Why?

"

The only natural state in life is love... Everything else is artificial and only serves to spoil the world. Lovers alone do not spoil anything in the world.

"

Someone pushed a chair over there and he sat on it. And he thought: Mommy should be painted. And he thought: I have painted hundreds and hundreds of women in my life, but never my mother. Why? Why not the nicest, the most beautiful? Why? A person thinks about so many things in life, but not what is important. People paint pictures of everything, everyone, but not the most, the most important, the most beautiful. Why?

"

We must not return as strangers to where we once were at home.

"

But where is the goal? What is the goal? Just live? Day after day? To live this and that, to turn the present into the past, to present the future, and to squirm, squirm at the back of the days, until suddenly they run out and... and nothing, or God, or whatever wipes away everything that was with a big black sponge, and what happened?

"

Every person must have a task in this life - within duty, or perhaps even beyond - because otherwise there would be no point in living. The human world needs to be more than a machine with a complicated structure, in which every person plays the role of a cog... Every person needs to have a task, a secret mission that comes from God.

"

Libraries have been written about what your rights are on this earth. You only have one real right: to live in peace. But this is exactly what they forget most often.

"

A flower of some kind grows in every soil. Every day has some joy. Raise your eyes to see it.

"

Rejoice in the snowdrops, violets and cornflowers. The silence of the forest. If you are alone: ​​for being alone. If you're not alone: ​​you don't have to be alone. Long for what tomorrow brings and enjoy what you have today.

"

Maybe I'm a letter in a book. Maybe a word. Maybe a poem. How should I know. I only know that it can be very sad what someone reads from me when they put down their pen.

"

Clarity is a gift of life that often comes late.

"

How strange... - small thoughts hesitated in his soul - how strange that the world is so quiet and so peaceful and so beautiful without people. It's just that people don't want to live in peace, they don't want silence, and they run away from beauty. What a strange man!

"

The reason for friendship cannot be accidental, nor can it be mutual dependence. Even less the same worldview orientation or political objective. The only reason for friendship is friendship itself.

"

And I felt that my heart was pounding, and it was excited by a rush of desire. I couldn't find the person I was looking for: so I set off alone.

"

This is the forest of loneliness. It's just me here, me and someone, Someone I don't know, And who I shouldn't even know about: Although I love him more than myself.

"

He heard footsteps receding, heard the rustling fade, and didn't turn to look. For what? You shouldn't look after what goes away. For time, life, people. It's not allowed. They will leave when the time is right. And one remains alone.

"

Nowhere are there so many flowers and nowhere are there so many sorrows. Love more, Lord, my poor country!

"

They hit you and you hit back: you act according to the primal animal rules of nature. But if you are hit and you are afraid to hit back immediately, you return the hit in a different form days later: you act in a human way. And we call this distinctly human trait revenge. That he repays wickedness with wickedness and calls it punishment.

"

Note well: no matter how stinky and no matter how disgusting the animal carcass you see on the side of the road, you are not doing anyone any good by kicking it. You'll only get your shoes dirty with it.

"

Because I'm still alive! Even if I'm broken, even in blood, even if I'm in spasms, even if I'm the last one left behind by the flood, I'll fight all the way and hold the flag!

"

Old age comes slowly. One can only notice that the mountains are growing, they are getting higher and higher, the road on them is getting longer and longer, up.

"

Patriotism begins when those who live in the same country love each other. But this is so hard for people to understand.

"

He who cannot fight for his country does not deserve a country.

"

You can steal someone's gold watch and give it back. You can steal his money and pay for the damage. There's just one thing you can never repay. This is the time. If you steal someone's time. If you keep someone waiting. It's like stealing so much time from someone's life. You can never repay it. Time is man's greatest and most important treasure. You can steal someone's horse and give it back again. You can steal everything and redeem it. Only stolen time can never be recovered. No earthly power can bring back the time spent waiting. No, it's lost, it's over. Lost forever.

"

Everyone wants to live on the top of the mountain, without knowing that happiness lies in climbing the slope.

"

It is a secret of the human soul, like the harmony of sounds in music. They are not identical, but they complement each other. True friendship is like a delicate, quiet chord in the disharmony of the human world.

"

I'm looking for old tracks that have been blown away by the wind. Old words washed away by the water.

"

Was it caused by the great silence, or did the cold slowly seep through the clothes, the skin, and seep into the bones: but at the same time, he felt that he was cold. It was some kind of internal cold, some kind of empty feeling inside. "I'm leaving," he thought. But he didn't move. His legs, hands, and muscles did not move. He felt something weigh on his shoulders, forcing him to stay still. Something pushes him down to the log, he can't get up from it. A shock ran through him, almost a trembling shock. And then he suddenly felt the silence around him. On his shoulders, on the trees, on the mountains, in the air. That heavy, white silence, which, like an invisible great cloud, weighed heavily on the world, and the world was not able to move under it, not even to breathe. Yes, he felt a terrible silence around him and above him, a dead silence. A silence that was nothingness itself. The death.

"

It was just as if all the bad qualities that were lost in creation were taken into one body to show people: this is how you would be if there were no angels watching over you when you were born.

"

- There is only one world - answered the girl quietly - and those who love each other meet in it again and again. They meet, say goodbye and leave. Then they meet again and leave again, and again and again, until the time comes when they don't have to part anymore.

"

I don't know anything about war or politics. I just get to the grain. For the good grain and the bad grain. This is bad grain here. Now, if I pour this out here on the scale plate, you see, it's a lot of grain, a lot of grain, and it tips the scale to one side. But if I started to pour the pure wheat into the far pan, then slowly the tongue of the scale starts to go back... see? The good wheat slowly overcomes the bad. The two are already in balance. And now listen here... now all I need is one grain of wheat, just one. I'm going to add this to the others... Do you see the tongue on the scale? That one grain of wheat was enough, that only one grain of wheat, and good triumphed over evil.

"

We didn't sleep that night. We just lay in the dark with our eyes open, and our thoughts - black-winged owls - visited friends, relatives and acquaintances.

"

The man lighting the lamp came alone on the wide, empty street, and there was something extremely comforting in the fact that he came, in his own time, as always, with a slow sway from the Main Square. Because on the big, lonely street, between the many silent doors and windows, when grown-up people were crying inside the rooms, these many lit, small flames still meant peace and evening. Oh, what a mighty man such a lamplighter is! When everyone is running madly, everyone is wailing and complaining, and dark things are being whispered in closed rooms, everyone is afraid and crying and cursing: then he comes one by one, as if nothing had happened, and lights the sleeping lanterns with the usual old gesture. He is not afraid and does not cry, but wherever he passes, the light comes with him along the empty street. And the child in the window felt a great desire then: I will become a lamplighter! And he knew that when he grew up, he would walk every street where it was dark and cold, and people were hiding in their rooms in fear. He will have a lighting stick in his hand and will light the lanterns regularly so that there is light and no one is afraid anymore. He thought about this and looked at the man outside who was running from lamp to lamp. He felt something he had never felt before. He didn't know what it was. Something squeezed his throat, something burned his eyes, and something hurt. And at the same time, it was as if something lifted him up, and something in there around his heart was very beautiful and very big at that moment. He had to jump up from the window and run into the inner room where the aunts were sitting. - Aunt Ilona! Aunt Ilona! I will be a lamplighter!

"

The people are like sheep. If they are led by a good shepherd, they obey and grow fat next to him. If the shepherd is mean, the flock will falter.

"

There is just as much bad in a person as there is good, and sometimes one and sometimes the other appear, depending on which the circumstances favor.

"

The truth, no matter what you do with it, lives longer than the boots that step on it.

"

Someone's soul is wounded. The person who gave it may not even know about it. Whoever received it hardly flinched. But the wound remains and does not heal.

"

God, grant that my wanderings may end like this on a beautiful day: may I also fall down on the road, rich in deeds and knowledge, may I remain there as a great sign of hope, so that anyone who longs for home and crosses over me carelessly says quietly and happily: it's only ten minutes the way home.

"

Don't be afraid, Hungarian, whoever is with you will surely lead you home, even in the midst of a thousand dangers, and when the time is right, you will hear his words. We're going home! We're going home! Don't be afraid, Hungarian, whoever is with us, we will go home from hiding. Our hiding will end soon, and we will finally be free, the Hungarians are free.

"

If you get homesick again, remember: all the pictures it shows are of the past. It's like flipping through an old photo album. Today, nothing is the same as what hurts inside you. Not only the weather has changed: the mountains and valleys have changed. The forests and the fields. They are not the same today as they were then, nothing is the same today. Everything has changed, everything is foreign. The intimate old ways you yearn for in pain are gone.

"

Always think: what would a monkey do if you dressed him in clothes, introduced him to the comforts of civilization, introduced him to the rules of the game of social life, provided him with positions, offices, rights and duties, and finally put your destiny in his hands? Don't expect more from people either!

"

Others can take your toys, clothes, and money. But there is no power of the earth that can take away from you the fact that the butterfly has colorful wings and that the thrush whistle in the forest is like a big blue flower opening inside you. No one can take away from you that the spring breeze has a sweet birch scent and silky soft hands like the good fairies.

"

When you are walking in the forest and come across a spring somewhere, sit quietly next to it and listen. Be very quiet, and then you will hear the voice of the fairy in the green dress from the rushing water. And if you have a good ear and understand the language of the forest, you can hear the beautiful tales that the fairy of the spring, the brook, the stream tells the trees at this time.

"

Christmas is coming, people! Be nice and clean! Brush your soul, brighten your mood, be children again so you can be human!

"

Let's replace the morality of our exploiters with the old, well-proven Hungarian morality, let every Hungarian truly extend a brotherly hand to every Hungarian, and the Lord God will give us strength again so that we can get rid of evil and build a free and true new Hungary together!

"

Life is like water: it just flows, keeps flowing, never stops for a moment, but takes with it everything that falls into it, it takes with it somewhere that people call "eternity". Minutes, hours, days, years, dreams, accomplishments, failures and memories... everything that a person's life and heart and soul are built from... just takes it and never brings anything back.

"

In the black room sits Skeleton Man. In the dark. Alone. Sometimes he indulges in the hustle and bustle of the palace and your spring. Then it will be autumn: the autumn of desires and dreams. They flutter softly like leaves. (It's as if a thousand knives are cutting into your heart: your skeleton man is sobbing, sobbing.)

"

A message to the mountains at home: the course of the stars changes. And there are laws for winds, rain, snow, clouds, and there is no cloud, it is eternal. Water flows, stone remains, stone remains.

"

Anger is not good, it fills the soul with poison and pollutes the thinking. Those unfortunate young brothers do not know what they are doing, they are like animals, they are poor. They are full of miserable filth, but try as I may, I cannot help you until they want to help themselves. And man cannot do anything but turn his head away and enjoy what God has created, because only that is flawlessly beautiful.

"

The stars (...) are holes in the sky, made with a tiny ice pick by an angel who wants us to see the heavenly light that is up there.

"

Everyone is innocent until proven guilty.

"

If you pick sweet grapes, share them with your neighbor. But if you foolishly take the pickle, keep it to yourself.

"

Morality is only a thin glaze on the human animal, which has been put on by hours of solitary reflection, and which is easily rubbed off when it is beaten into a herd and the hidden instinct of the beast breaks out from under it.

"

I am stateless because I believe in the good, the true, the beautiful. In every religion and in every people and in God, whose is the victory.

"

The world is rough, black. Black with blind hatred. Blind as the eyes of men: they cannot see even to the sky with it. God's chariot is already falling from the sky!

"

Sir! Order now so we can go home! It doesn't matter how, and it doesn't matter at what price! We don't want to hide in this harsh, homeless world forever! If necessary, even on foot, hungry, chattering, with a torn soul and ready for death: let's just be at home in our country for once!

"

Run, my car, run with me, run, my roaring life. Don't mind if it's your turn, believe me: it's good to die rushing!

"

Kiss a lot today, let the most beautiful kiss-flower of your soul open: today you kiss for the last time.

"

And believe me that there is no loss in death, that death is just another turn: because every mood is a life, and every life is just a mood.

"

Today, autumn came in farewell. Today, my partner went far away with a goodbye... And my heart became very empty today: everything, all dreams, turned pale.

"

No two trees are alike in all the forests of the world. And no two people are alike. The unnatural theory of equality was invented by the weak, the dwarfs, and the powerless in order to force the strong, the great, and the gifted to their own standards. They can experiment with it for a thousand years, even then they won't succeed. The only way to make a big one small is to cut off its head.

"

I believe in the right of the privileged to isolate themselves from the masses. Artists will always believe in this, because artists are not only individuals, but also privileged among people.

"

Hatred and bitterness are the worst possible antidotes to any social ill. It's like brandy. It dulls the brain and weakens the eye, and leads to actions that cannot be undone.

"

When the sun rises, I see the smile of the Lord God (...) and I see the smile of the Lord even when the sun goes down. I see the smile of the Lord on the moon, and the bright sparkle of his eyes in every little star. In the blue of the sky, I see the holy law of eternal purity and the ever-present caring love that enlivens us with cleansing rains. I feel His holy breath in the wind, which daily washes my soul clean from the temptations of dirt.

"

A person has to live with his mistakes for a lifetime. This is his punishment for not recognizing the most important law of human life in time. That we are responsible for every word we say and for every word we don't say, we are responsible for the future of ourselves and those around us through these words we say or keep silent.

"

Avoid the infected. You get to know them easily, because a person with a fever talks wrong. Anyone who feels cold even in the sun, who cannot see the roadside flowers or hear the thrush waking up at dawn: do not stay near such a person, because it is suspected that he is a carrier of the disease.

"

One has this problem, the other has that. The only problem is yourself, that's what everyone has.

"

It's scary how powerful a word can be sometimes. He sways destinies and decides lives. A single word that should not have been said.

"

There is a law of war that says: clean weapons win over dirty weapons. However, if none of the weapons is pure, then the greater evil and the greater hatred always wins. The purity and gentleness of the saints defeats the beasts, or so they teach, but when two beasts fight, the wilder beast always wins. If two barbarians fight each other, the barbarian wins. This is what history teaches. Either we should have been more pure or more barbaric.

"

Perhaps every star is an eye that looks at the world at night, and because it is deeply saddened by what it sees, it weeps the dew on it.

"

High in the blue sky, eagles circled with motionless wings. And further to the northwest, where the reeds met the sky, small white clouds sailed gently towards Transylvania. As if they were only homesick sighs rising from the depths of the swamp.

"

Only the weak have the right to lie, the one who has been beaten down to save his skin as best he can. But the strong, the winner has no right to lie. A vile scoundrel who does this.

"

The world is beautiful and strange. It's just that there are a lot of very sick people in it. The angry, the envious, the hater. The villain and the dictator, the madman and the hero. They infect and corrupt the world to the extent of their abilities. But they couldn't completely spoil it, even if appearances say so a thousand times. Why not? Because Nature is the mother of the world, and in nature man is nothing more than a little mischievous joke. So make sure you stay a funny joke. Because a thorn grows out of an evil joke, which wounds you bloody and disfigures the world.

"

You can be happy even in hell if you are with the one you love.

"

He dies. And if He doesn't, I won't either. How could I be without him...

"

Because the Hungary that I got to know, despite its thousand small flaws, carried all the signs of greatness and dignity. It was a country of individuality, a country of individual freedom, the respect for which freedom was deeply rooted both in the system and in the souls of the people.

"

People don't die when something happens to them by accident. But this or that happens when they have to die.

"

A happiness built on a lie can never be true happiness.

"

The biggest problem is that we never know for sure who is who. People get together, socialize, hang out, hang around, and you never know for sure who is next to them. Who is? Yes, it's the biggest trouble, you see, in the world. Only sometimes do they find out the truth about each other. Sometimes. And only when it's too late.

"

When the dwarves gain the power to make everyone equal, they know only one way to do it. They cut off the heads of those who are taller.

"

If you are not satisfied with something, say so openly. But don't be uneasy about it. Restlessness makes people restless, and restless people are (...) like wasps: their only ability is to cause poisonous tumors with their sting.

"

Friendship does not mean that someone is at the disposal of our selfishness without limits.

"

A complaining person is like a bad child who asks for a toy and is not satisfied when he gets it.

"

Only an uneducated person can tell when he is in a bad mood. Discipline yourself.

"

Don't confuse victory (...) with success. The cloud manages to push itself between the sun and the earth. But did he beat the day with it?

"

Go boldly, deeper and deeper into the woods. Under the trees, here and there you can still see the dew glistening on the tips of the blades of grass. Remember that it is the tears of angels. Angels who cry a lot even today, because so many people's hearts remain closed to the beautiful. But they don't cry because of you anymore. They smile when they see you coming.

"

The stalks of grain grown without sweat are fragile and the ears are leech.

"

The human eye is a mirror, you just have to be able to read it.

"

Nothing is important in the treatment of diseases of the human soul, only that the patient should believe. (...) And above all: believe in your own healing. In the fact that he still has a purpose and a task in life that he must complete. He who can provide all of this to the patient is a healer.

"

Man speaks... but what he feels is real.

"

The world is in trouble. It is not meant for people to live in it.

"

Don't say anything. When something needs to be said, it's better not to say anything.

"

People want to destroy everything. I only catch as many fish as I need, and sometimes for the lord when he comes up. He who destroys even when he is not hungry is sinning.

"

I am not saying that man is born to be fair. Because man steals. He lives by stealing. Like a fox or a wolf. Sometimes from God, sometimes from people, but still mostly from God, because everything belongs to God and not to people. But he who becomes a servant, a servant to a master, a farmer, from whom he receives salary, comments, money and everything to be able to live, and even steals from him: he is such a scoundrel, such a petty thief that even the devil refuses to shake hands with him !

"

Behind the past, only the white cloth of memory hangs, like a torn piece of cloud wrapped around the stumps of old trees.

"

There are no half things in this world, only whole things. And if you want something, you have to want it completely.

"

The small candles were burning, there was a smell of pine and great silence. I felt something sadly beautiful then. Painful because I was alone and there were no presents on the table. But also a serious and defiant feeling, because I created a holiday for myself. (...) I felt as if the stern face of life had suddenly softened from my little Christmas tree, and hope and the future entered my room to celebrate.

"

In everyone's life, there are unfortunate moments in which something starts, which ends in tragedy.

"

- It is a terrible thing to die (...). - It's not so terrible, Teofil. The person falls asleep slowly and does not wake up again. Just rest and relax. It's good to rest... But life! You will never see a forest again and you will never hear a bird again! But life is so beautiful... You will stay here, Teofil, even after that. It's just that people can't see it anymore... You sprinkle the dew on the grass at night, and you shake the leaves off the trees in autumn. And when the first flower opens in the forest, you will stand by it and paint its petals as you wish. You will fly with the butterflies, and your finger will touch the tips of the pine needles, and they will sparkle from it in the sun, and you will carry, like the breeze, the good smell from one vat to another.

"

Consistent misfits are respectable eccentrics. But compromising zealots are mankind's troublemakers.

"

Mine is the fairy-tale palace of dreams, mine is the miraculous music of spring, which it plays in my heart... and yet... still I need something... I need something: your mouth is kind.

"

Never collect useless items! Stamps, matchboxes, money, wealth. Collect only the beautiful in yourself. The beautiful that you can see with your eyes, hear with your ears, feel with your nose and touch with your fingertips. And collect what you think at that time!

"

Until now I have flailed, struggled, longed, burned: I have returned to my last fortress, and I surround myself with an invisible circle, unarmored from spears. Stop! Beyond that, I am Me and My Faith!

"

- Hásze, look here, Lord - the old archangel nudged his pipe towards Transylvania - the Hungarians rule and quarrel with the Romanians. The Romanian stares at the clouds and argues with the Hungarian. Well, right? The Saxon works, that's true, and in a fight, everyone sides with whichever is stronger. But who will benefit from it? The Saxon, the miser, Lord, his soul is hairy! There needs to be someone who has both a mind and a heart and knows a little about work, because otherwise the devil will take it all away! The Lord God could not say anything else to this, because it was just so true, and since there was nothing in his pockets that he could have taken out, he created the székely.

"

It should be known that when the Lord was arranging the affairs of peoples and countries on earth, he cleverly forgot about Transylvania. Since then, it has remained a habit to forget about it whenever it occurs.

"

For a while he looked at the small, insignificant blue flower that had emerged from the moss. It was quite insignificant, hardly even noticeable. But there were many funnels on it, very small, pure light blue, like the sky in summer when it is full of sunlight. How beautiful - he thought - and people don't even see it. He walks past him and steps on him. The world is full of so many beautiful things.

"

He thought that this is how all life should be. The child's father would saw the wood, and he would help him, or sit on the logs and nurse the child, then he would call him in to eat when the food was ready, and in the evening they would sit side by side on the bench and watch the clearing go into dusk and talk quietly about a child who is already sleeping quietly in the cradle. He felt that this is what is missing from the Komárnys, this quiet, peaceful, ordinary life that three people live together: a man, a woman and a child. Together. With shared plans and shared joys. With little speech, but still in such a way that they know everything about each other. Without secrets, cleanly, simply, just as life is beautiful and peaceful.

"

He cried, he cried. And slowly everything got easier. Softer, sadder. As when the lightning of the storm subsides, the thunder subsides, and only the rain falls. It rains and rains, quietly and sadly, and it's no longer scary or terrible, it's just sadly gentle, and behind its gentleness, somewhere far away, consolation is starting to dawn.

"

Words are just like those small stones that you see on the surface of the earth, but which still show that there are big, big rocks below the ground.

"

He thought of the roe deer that lives there with its big belly in the thicket, and of the other animals, the sheep, goats, rabbits, and wild boars, who all come to spring with such big bellies. For the squirrels. Then to the birds, who are already feverishly building their nests to give birth to chicks in them. He passed by birch trees and felt in his nose the sweet smell of buds that came from them, and he thought that the trees also break buds, grow new branches, the roots send out shoots, seeds germinate in the warming plant... and at once he understood that this is the order of the world. This is the law of spring: breaking life, passing on life, giving birth to someone. It was a serious, beautiful feeling. He felt that they were all one, allies, with a common goal: the forest, the animals, the birds and himself. They obey one law and carry within themselves one command: life.

"

He stopped in front of the snow flower. He bent down, watching. What makes a snow flower like this? What makes it so white? What makes your greens green? What makes them come out from under the ground? Does God do this? Someone has to do all this, that's for sure. Because how could a flower grow out of the ground by itself? How would it be a bird? And who would teach the birds to make so many beautiful sounds? And who would paint their feathers in so many beautiful colors, the feathers of the birds and the petals of the flowers and the trees and the sunbeams and everything, if not the Good Lord?

"

When the two of us say goodbye, it's always a death for our souls.

"

The ugly world has problems, all people have problems, the many angels all have problems, and God also has problems, because he has problems with everyone. And this is how the beautiful and the good pass by without a trace.

"

The following spring, the stumps of all thirteen apple trees sprouted, and by summer's waist, thirteen small, wispy canes were already pointing to the sky. To the sky, which has been watering the land of small Transylvania with a mixture of rain and sunshine for hundreds of years now. And since then, they have grown one or two aras every spring. (...) Those who live there in the midst of trouble and misery around the Kommando, small and large: they watch the growth of sprouted trees year by year with hope and wait with the ancient patience of the mountain peoples for spring, which will make them bloom for the first time, so that peace will finally be born among them and the fruit of love for all. And no matter what is happening around us, they know that this spring is already approaching. Because God, who can make a fruit tree grow again from a cut stump, will not let the nations who believe in him perish either.

"

Whether giants build castles or men build huts: castles and huts are all temporary things. Only mountains, valleys, rivers and peoples are eternal, because they were created by God!

"

There are things you can't talk about. Which each person can manage only by himself.

"

Today, I am a priest of the God of Joy, I believe in life, beauty and goodness. I am Caesar in the hug, Darius in the kiss.

"

You were not with me, even though the evening came so beautifully: gentle as love.

"

I became a God-seeker, black troubles made me that way. Among hermit trees, in crypt silence, I keep saying mea culpas.

"

Don't say "never" and don't say "forever". Loneliness brings people together.

"

The poem is born just like the wind is born. Or the flower. Or the tree leaf. The poem is breezy, and I think that the Infinite is sending us the magical scent of World flowers with it, and as it steals through our hearts, it sweeps away the petals of feelings.

"

When the world changes so much that it is no longer possible to live in it, man is left with only one refuge. To create your own separate world and surround it with an invisible fence of insensitivity.

"

There are three kinds of people in the world: those who are their own masters, those who work for others, and those who simply avoid work. Those who are their own masters... they are omniscient because they control fate. They are the ones who can build cities, countries, and nations. They are the ones who make the world what it should be.

"

A person is innocent until proven guilty! I want our children to grow up in this faith and not have prejudices just because they don't know someone.

"

Memories and blurred footprints are invisible to the eye, yet the attentive soul can feel the vibrations of long-gone dreams and youthful desires that die with time. If one stops quietly and listens to the starry night with his heart, he will feel the love that was felt and expressed in so many ways by so many people in the past.

"

You know, my little boy, there are a lot of nettles, thorns, and weeds in the world. Because people do far more bad than good. And the nettle, the thorn, and the tares are the traces of evil deeds on this earth. But you can see that there are also butterflies. Many small butterflies carry the news of many small kindnesses. And then there are beautiful, large, colorful butterflies: these are rare, very good deeds. The more beautiful and greater good you do, the more beautiful, bigger and more colorful a butterfly takes off in its wake. (...) It's okay if people don't thank you for it. All your good deeds will be reported by a butterfly.

"

In ordinary human life, time has a very colorful and varied meaning. Man wakes up in the morning and begins to live a million small colorful chapters of time. And as the day passes, time always means something, it always brings something new and surprising to one's life. Minute by minute, the pearls of events are intertwined, and even when nothing is happening, the opportunity inherent in time itself is enough to make life interesting. Waiting for the unexpected makes time an exciting experience in a person's life.

"

To be a godparent means to take a groping little soul by the hand and gently lead it out of the darkness towards the light. It means spreading light and warmth, building a protective wall from light and warmth against darkness and hatred.

"

Who has never admired passing away, who has not had a mirage dream: Poor is his soul, alas, very poor...

"

The important things in life are not what we usually consider important. Money, career, progress, success, work: when it comes to finding ourselves in this world and deeming existence in it worthwhile, these are all very small things. Feelings and moods are important, they color our soul and, through our soul, the world in which we live.

"

Be one intention, one common will, one common action, just like in the old days. For as you have done to one another, so will the Lord do to you.

"

It is better not to believe in God than to believe that everything happens according to His will.

"

Together we are strength, everywhere is weakness.

"

It is not the freedom to live like a dictator and enforce the hatred you have accumulated at will. Freedom is that there is no dictator above you other than the Creative Order. And that you can defend yourself against hate with love.

"

You can travel halfway around the world, you will be without a brother in other people's land, and the wind will blow you away like a stray autumn leaf if you forget about your nation.

"

Everything around us is God. The trees, the flowers, the birds, the people... everything. Even the sheep. The wind, the water, the fire... the smell of the trees at night... everything is God. If we look through our soul.

"

In that moment, I should have felt what it means to be Hungarian. Above all, it means joy, all the joy that comes from honest intentions and work, and also the joy that the truth is always stronger than falsehood, even if it shamefully hides its power for a long time. Second, it means pride that we were able to endure the suffering that God put on our shoulders so that we could be strengthened by it on the one hand, and on the other hand learn from it and be more just with others than they were with us. It also means a strong and cheerful determination that, world, now you'll be amazed when I pick up the scythe again. But at the same time, it also means sorrow, true fraternal sorrow for those for whom hope remains the only consolation of their Hungarianness. That's all it means to be Hungarian, and the beauty of it is that it means both joy and sorrow, pride and strong determination at the same time.

"

Somehow, the world became wiser and became quieter. People have realized the order of life, that there must be peace among those who must live together on this earth. That the earth binds people to each other, and we all pull fate on a common rope.

"

As long as a person walks a righteous path, he can go boldly in the face of all dangers. But as soon as he tries to put himself ahead of others with cunning, bias, and individual greed: sooner or later he fails.

"

Isn't that the secret we all live for? How to ground the great secret of our life, God? And what did I do to solve the secret, my own? To not only believe, but also to know...?

"

Many old memories come to life, blurry pictures take on new colors, old words come out of the silence hundreds and thousands of times. In such cases, the dream grows and rises above the past, correcting mistakes that the conscience puts in front of it, like a tailor in front of a poorly sewn garment. Only then can you start all over again and arrange things that have been done in a different, more reassuring way, only then can you dream of the past as a colorful miracle and believe the future to be true and beautiful.

"

Being alone doesn't hurt anyone. Being alone doesn't hurt anyone. (...) The rest was spoiled by the fact that they were never alone. That they weren't alone enough and couldn't learn things that the forest and solitude teach. But they were filled with many other things, lies that they lied to each other, fears with which they alarmed each other, and they were filled with some evil that fell over their eyes like a cataract, and only through it they can see the world and other things.

"

There are two kinds of people in this world, (...) one carves a world for himself with a sword, the other with a plow. But a world carved with a sword can be knocked down by another sword and re-carved very quickly. Only the plow carves what remains.

"

This is a land that has suffered a lot, whoever comes from afar should set foot on it with reverence!

"

The holiday is a gift from God, like other days, and it is meant to honor the human being in ourselves by stripping away from our ordinary nature.

"

Private property is sinful selfishness, in fact it is nothing more than theft, because in fact God created the world equally for all people, and thus the whole of humanity holds the world together, everything is shared, and no one has the right to appropriate anything for himself alone.

"

Every person is equal, and he is worth as much as he works for the benefit of the community.

"

There is no human world without law and order.

"

I can feel your rhythm, even from afar, And while the thought flies far with you, The rhythm stirs in me into a poetic flower, To find your pure soul.

"

Don't forget for a minute that all your brothers are Hungarian, wherever they live.

"

Look at this tree. See the many leaves on it? Each of them, even the smallest ones, has a small hairy root deep in the ground, which provides it with life. The leaves fall in autumn, right? It falls every fall. But thanks to that little hair root, it comes back every spring. However, if the root fiber dies underground, the leaf will not return, and over time, the tree will also die. Because life is in the root, you know? And those who leave cannot take the roots with them. And he who has no roots is lost. Many Hungarians were lost like this, very many. Think of the root.

"

On roadless roads... But beyond soul-boundaries, beyond thought, beyond all dreams, something far away awaits us, a ray of light in this ugly world: perhaps a "forgetting everything". Maybe a "start all over" on the final cliffhanger.

"

I know as much with my stupid head that the order of human life is like the life of fish in the stream. The big one eats the little one when it can, and the little one, if it's smart, hides from it in the weeds. Now, if I sprinkle a seed of a pansy in the stream, it will all go around, first the big one, then the small one too, and soon they will all be floating belly up on top of the water. Well, that's what they do with the world today. They sow the seed of folly in it, so as to make the big and the small equal. And look, they experiment until we are all belly up, like dead fish.

"

A trustworthy person is respected even by his enemies.

"

Man wants to pay for the mistakes he has made, and believes that if he suffers enough, that is enough. But it's not like that.

"

This is the most peculiar thing about man... the important words come to his tongue only when he can no longer say them.

"

Everyone has to fight their own battle if they want to live, that's the law of nature.

"

No one likes to be burdened with problems they cannot help. No one likes to linger among dark memories and gloomy thoughts.

"

What is the value of a tear and what is the value of a person, if you have to die once anyway, and the word is lost and there is only a palm-sized space under the ground, rotting flesh, disintegrating bone: I was. I lived. I died. Point.

"

Where people are bored a lot and have nothing to do with their time, it happens that a bug overwhelms the heads from the inside.

"

The holy magician's robe of the sciences has turned into a cheap cloak of magicians, which fabricates death and sin instead of healing herbs for human wounds... Every invention becomes a new cross and every cross has a new pain... every pain brings forth new blood, and every new blood, new Judas gold...

"

I carved the cross above the lake and stuck it to the head of the grave. That there would be a trace of God even there, if he had already been there. Make a mark. For everyone to see: he was there and did this and that. The God. This huge black bear that wanders over the world in such a way that you can't tell when, where... but all of a sudden it steps over a person and the world becomes dark, blind and deaf. Ugly and smelly. Everywhere his trail leads. Well, I carved a cross in his wake, a birch cross, white, beautiful, straight, where he trampled me. Crippled like a bear to an ant.

"

And in the evenings, when everything goes quiet and only the streams ring in the dreams of the forests, the beautiful bird wanders, cooing and hovering over soft clearings and badger bushes. It flies low and owl-like and has a long beak and the light of the first star is already flickering then and there is nothing more beautiful than it in the spring forest. Anyone who hunts knows: this evening wanderer is a game bird. And there is nothing more wonderful than a soft spring evening. Those who stop at that time, in a clearing, deep, deep inside the bait, know that those who make peace can never be right. Because you can't make peace. It is there, and it can only be found.

"

Some people have a smile on their face.

"

All ideologies are just an excuse, which serves as a way for those spiritual people who are not needed to try to prove their right to exist. You see, according to the laws of Europe, my task now would be to demonstrate as a night watchman, or as a street sweeper, or as an Australian sheep shearer in support of some ideology and proclaim with a martyr's fate that the things of humanity are going badly because I, the Nobel Prize-winning university professor I shear sheep and sweep the streets instead of leading mankind. No, sir, that would be a lie. And I would rather betray the Europe that brought me up on this lie. Humanity has no need for me as a spiritual person. He produced too much. He needs an innkeeper to serve those who want to relax on Sundays.

"

People all grow up one day. And always at the right moment.

"

It doesn't matter what mistake someone makes in life. The important thing is that you take responsibility for them.

"

The Hungarian writer's task at all times is to write in Hungarian, verbally and in spirit. If you do that, you don't need to be political. Because if you write in Hungarian, in the Hungarian spirit, according to the dictates of your conscience and responsibility, and with the anxious loyalty you feel towards your nation, this is more than politics. This is national defense.

"

Living in the shadow of Trianon, let's forget all personal grievances and partisanship and extend a brotherly hand to everyone who is still Hungarian in heart and intention, even if our views do not agree on many things.

"

If the last dream, in which we believed in a little summer, will fly away, and the sun's rays will move far away: what will be left for us above the hopeless, big snowfields?

"

Every time someone does good in this world: a (...) butterfly takes to the air and brings the news to the Good Lord.

"

First of all, I have to say that when the Good Lord created these strange little lakes of ours, he was quite a bit sad. (...) These lakes have become so strange and so dreamy that anyone who sees them must involuntarily feel something beautiful and a little sad.

"

Now I know that I can't do anything else: I have to go to the place where the great masters of the world have been gathering for years and giving speeches about peace, justice and human rights. And if they don't let me in through the doors, I have to go in through the windows. But I have to stand up to them and tell them to stop making speeches. Because it is not fair to talk about freedom and give the freedom of others to the devil. Talking about truth and human rights and dedicating a country to death. I will ask them: what have I done against you, gentlemen? And what did my people do, there among the mountains? Then they take out their purses, as the rich do when they cannot answer the questions of the poor, but I tell them: No, gentlemen! Don't give alms! Give me back my mountains!

"

A thousand new Kőmíves Klemens are coming, who will not build the wall of peace with ashes or human blood, but with holy water and wheat bread and build a new homeland from old stone.

"

God created man for peace, and not for war, and gave everyone his place to live and what to do. God knows what he's doing.

"

The Lord God knows what he is doing, who he is putting where. If everyone stayed where they belonged, people wouldn't always get in each other's way, and there would be peace everywhere.

"

We can't fight something. It makes no sense. You have to fight for something.

"

When you're in really bad trouble, when you really need someone to help you, people always have other things to do. It's no use saying that you don't need anything else in the world, just this. No matter how much you promise to help: people don't need everything. No one needs everything you offer in exchange for that one. All it takes is a little something and they're on to something else.

"

The power of love can do anything, but the lack of love makes even the best intentions impossible.

"

So we have to take off the costumes of partisanship so that the Universal Man can unfold in us.

"

And I wonder if one day my Fate drives me: to fight on a blood-flowered sea, will you still love me, my dear? And alas, when you get to know the road and see with astonishment: how much, how much danger; will you accompany me into a pathless infinity?

"

Every human being carries his future within himself, and he will be what he sees it to be.

"

It all depends on how we look at that thousand-faced, thousand-shaped strange thing we call human life.

"

Let us not shake our heads with haughty superiority, and let us not shrug our shoulders indifferently to shake off the unpleasant burden of self-criticism: we ourselves are responsible for this world, just as our fathers and grandfathers were responsible.

"

If you die, I die too. I lived to find you, and because I found you, we both die. I will never, ever leave you again... do you understand? Never...!

"

I am the key that opens the hidden locks of your heart, and I am the arrow that screeches to death the bird of your desire.

"

Truth, peace and understanding are always sought on earth only by those who have been defeated and trampled upon.

"

Where sinners are at war, the more evil always wins, and God gives the less evil the way to come closer to the truth in the humiliation and sufferings of defeat, and to find the straight and clear path that leads to peace.

"

God forgives people's sins because He loves them, but He cannot make the mistakes they make undone, and the consequences of these mistakes must be borne.

"

The most important thing in the life of a country or people is not the organization or the production of factories. It's morality. Because where this is not, there is nothing.

"

Respect your ancestors, because through them you gained life and inherited God and your country.

"

The thorn of hatred has never bloomed in peace.

"

The surprising realization of a pure little soul: that people are good. That despite all the bad things that happen in the world, people are still good. Somewhere deep inside. It's just that they rarely show what's inside.

"

Waving with both hands, he educated the unfortunate city dwellers who were separated from the great realities of human existence, whose souls had already grown attached to the asphalt, and because of this they were no longer able to grasp the secret resources arising from the communion of God and man, which today are only the legacy of the mountain people up there on the misty ridges.

"

Anyone who has a grudge in their heart, against anyone, should get rid of it, because the grudge hidden in the heart poisons the soul and the body.

"

Every sorrow makes one grow a little in here, in here (...) -, in here, you understand. A person grows up, becomes leafy like a tree. You will learn something. Like a tree by its foliage. Absorbing more sunlight while the sun shines and putting some of it aside in the leaves... get it? Better to enjoy the joy, you know? And to put something out of it. You have to understand this. And that's what grief is for to teach you.

"

Good is nothing but the ancient and natural order of things. It's just the straight path. His reward is in himself. Makes it clean and light. It gives you feelings that you couldn't buy even with Darius's treasure, and that no power can deprive you of.

"

People bury their dead and carve crosses over their graves, as a sign that there is something more than life.

"

Real laws are not written in books and not guarded by paid officials. (...) They live with you, in you and around you, and are unchanged from the creation of the world to the end of the world. They define what you can and cannot do, they make you feel the difference between good and bad, beautiful and ugly. They limit you, lock you between birth and death, watch over you in the form of instinct and conscience.

"

There is also a small gap between bad and good. And not only you, but ninety-eight percent of humanity can comfortably fit into this small gap.

"

There are as many interests as there are people on earth. But there is only one truth. The candle flame and the spotlight differ only in their dimensions, they are essentially the same.

"

Do not wound the souls of your fellow human beings! If someone carelessly scratches your phone, don't make a big deal out of it. Wounds that are palpated are the fastest to heal. And if you could already feel the tormenting tearing of thoughts around the wound: take out the knife of will, heat it in the fire of the spirit and cut out the attacked part of your soul with it. Wash the wound with pure self-criticism, no matter how much it stings and burns. Put a forget-me-not patch on him and walk around with him as if nothing had happened to him.

"

Nobody cares about the truth. Neither are human rights. Everyone is only interested in their own truth and their own rights. The rest are all just empty passwords.

"

The wheel of history often turns, and sometimes it turns good and sometimes bad. Only those who walk with justice and hold hard will remain on it.

"

Love your people, your nation, more than yourself, and have no other gods besides him. Respect your home and the land you live on, so that the rest of you can live a long life on it!

"

If I leave here, the world comes with me. This is the world that I see, with my own eyes, filtered through my own moods. And neither evenings, nor dawns, nor clouds, nor winds, nor stars will ever be like they are now. Because I don't see them like that anymore. Those who come after me no longer see my world, only their own, and it is already foreign to me.

"

Money, career, success, work: they barely count when judging the meaning of life. Feeling is what fills a person, with good and bad, beautiful and ugly. And the mood floats like vapor on the surface of feelings and projects its changing colors onto everything around us. To our thoughts, our words, the rhythm of our speech, everything that belongs to us. And so to the world itself. Because it is true that everything that exists is alien to us, equally rigid materiality and survives us, humans. But as we see what is: it is from within us.

"

I am only a traveler in this world, a wandering traveler quite alone, who can see everything he can see, but he cannot take anything with him, he cannot put anything aside, he cannot tie himself to anything, no matter how much he has come to love this or that. And slowly, with resigned sadness, the itinerary also formed in me: one only delights in what is meant for one. He notes a few things to himself, quite irregularly and without any meaning, and tries to make the journey as beautiful as possible. Walking through life, just as if you were walking along a lake, between hills with alternating faces, you always see something new and always say goodbye to something old, and it is smartest to do all this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if there is nothing sad about the fact that time passes with goodbyes, that every dawn follows a dusk and that there are flowery landscapes that we fall in love with and the landscape fades into the past.

"

All war brings only death, the death of many, many people who should have been working and not dying. And it brings poverty, calamity, misery. Win or lose, you can only lose in war.

"

When autumn gathers up all the sorrows, and with it quietly washes my soul: will you come to comfort me, my dear?

"

Just as a person does not particularly notice that he breathes clean, sunny air into his lungs. Only when it turns to soot and dust does it remember that the air was once different. That's exactly how you don't feel freedom when you live in it.

"

My God, because death is something very sad and very dark. He visits the families from time to time and reminds everyone that life is not endless and it is very, very sad. Because one remembers that there will always be funerals, this and that will die, the world will become emptier, emptier, until finally the person is also buried.

"

Life is like a waistcoat: if you button it wrong, you look for the fault in vain. You have to unbutton the whole thing and start over.

"

Only blood and language can hold people together and the memory of the common past. If this ceases, the world will fall apart.

"

The patient looked at the ceiling with unmoving eyes and thought about how strange this word was: live. It has only one meaning, and yet it means the same thing to every person.

"

A person would do better if he did not care about anyone, or ridicule, or criticism, but only about his own feelings. It's not a problem if you're a bad owner. It's not a problem if your grain goes moldy. The problem is if you get involved in an inappropriate life, because it makes the soul go stale.

"

We live in an era of opposite truths. What is a pheasant egg to one person is a crow egg to another. What is a crow's egg to one people is a pheasant's egg to another. (...) You must always think that not only I can be right, but also someone else. The same egg can be a crow egg for me and a pheasant egg for someone else. And if I know that one and the same egg can really be of two kinds at the same time, then I am smarter than someone who doesn't know this, and if I am smarter, then I have to tolerate and listen. Because the world is such that those who are smart tolerate and listen.

"

Don't think that the world is ugly and people are bad. People are good. Wickedness is nothing more than some strange disease that is contagious and returns from time to time. Whether it's the plague or the common cold. And then he distorts the world around him.

"

Man should not be afraid of others, only of his own evil actions, never of others.

"

All the trouble between us on this earth comes from not understanding each other's words.

"

Man is such a strange animal. He does not act according to the way he has established the truth, but he establishes the truth according to the way he has acted.

"

Men are to their wickedness as unbelieving priests are to their religion. They do it, but they don't believe in it.

"

Human goodness is still only like that of a useless child. You have to show him a wand to come out.

"

A person should never humble himself, even if he thinks that by doing so he can achieve something that he would not be able to achieve otherwise. Human dignity comes before everything else, and it should not be traded, because one only buys unpleasant moments and subsequent shame and annoyance with it.

"

They will not hear the voice of the one who shouts louder, but the one who speaks the truth. And the smartest person will not be the one who knows hate, but the one who knows love and understanding.

"

We live from today to tomorrow and we wait, we do our things without a plan or a goal, just to be able to live today, because tomorrow is lost in the mist of some strange expectation, which if it didn't exist: our existence in this world would lose its meaning.

"

The false forms of social life have already made honesty wild in us.

"

Dissecting spiritual questions and delving into them, monitoring the developing soul is normally an uncomfortable task.

"

It is the soul that sees the world in the motionless, deaf and blind body, hears the world, soars far into the past and future, and seeks God even when it denies its existence.

"

Life is strange. The way he brings two people together here and there, as if by chance, and then chains them to each other with the invisible power of friendship.

"

It's good to remember what we've been through. There is always strength in such remembrance and a testimony against discouragement. And it has a wise knowledge of that which floats high above human trials and is dignified clearly. For divine truth. Which consists in the fact that we live. Yet we live. And the sun is shining on us.

"

You Hungarians in Budapest and the rest of you in the Great Plains and Transdanubia: do you know what it is to sing the national anthem? Hear it in church, at school, at ceremonies, at meetings, always. Your children are studying at school. Our young people have never heard it. Only sometimes on the radio, if they got it, they listened with reverence and a praying heart to the magical melody, the words of which they could only imagine, not understand. If someone knew and sang it, he brought trouble for himself, his family, and his village. Those who knew kept it to themselves. But the anthem still lived! They knew how it was and they knew it was a prayer.

"

The threads that tied him to life were slowly all torn. He just didn't notice. You see, people never notice what is important.

"

As long as a person lives, he always tries to do something lasting for those who follow him. He doesn't even think that those who come will see everything differently and transform everything, transform his whole life and relocate it according to their new perspective and individuality, and in fact what a person has done and thought for the future will become almost redundant. , planned.

"

Humans have two lives. In one he always dreams, and in the other he buries what he dreamed.

"

There is nothing sadder than when a woman in love begins to feel sorry for the one she loves.

"

There are people who wander around the world with their two binoculars and don't see many things with them, while some women see things that aren't there.

"

Saying the impossible is cowardice.

"

Under the colorful domes of illusions and daydreams, she was waiting for the first man who would notice her. He planted roses and dahlias in front of the palace and built a soft little path between them so that he could come to him through the flower-scented garden. How many evenings and how many nights was this palace built, how many lonely daydreaming hours planted their slender flowers on the edges of the path, between Reality and the Palace. And now he has come. And he didn't come through the gate and he didn't come through the path: he just crossed the garden and stepped onto the colorful roof of the palace with a big rough step, the domes collapse below him, the flowers lie trampled on the ground, in place of the expensive, colorful glass roof, among the broken tiles a face looks down and in a language taken from reality, simply, rudely, simply asks: do you want to be my wife...?

"

They think of me that my treasure is infinite: but I feel and know that I have nothing: I remain indebted to everyone. Because in love, faith and hope I am even more beggar than beggar.

"

My poor Hungarian brother, somewhere in Budapest, or in the Great Plains, or far beyond the Danube: I pity you, because you cannot know this feeling. You don't know what it is: to wait for national guardsmen. I feel sorry for you, because you did not live in captivity for twenty-two years, you did not suffer humiliation, you did not tolerate foreign orders. You weren't persecuted, you weren't robbed, you weren't the target of contempt because of your Hungarianness. You can't even really know what we felt then! (...) Our whole body was one heart, the whole street was one heart, the whole world was one heart, and this heart was beating and pounding in such a way that it could no longer be sustained. (...) We felt that our hearts were split in two and opened. Everything that had accumulated over the years spilled out of it, and our naked, naked hearts reddened there, clear and exposed in front of the patriots who came, who were ours.

"

I didn't know what I was feeling: joy or pain. I felt that I should rush, rush out into the fields and shout across them with alarming words, to dress in full flowers, because they have become Hungarian land again! To run to the forest and beat the trees so that they sing with happiness! But at the same time, you should have stopped facing the southern hill line, with your hat off and your head down. There was nothing else to do but stand motionless at the window, look north, east, south, embrace the sister hills with a single glance, embrace and squeeze them together so that they can never be separated from each other.

"

Don't tell me to find a place for myself elsewhere in the world, because there is no place in this world that is mine apart from that one. Don't say that you accept me in this or that country, because I have nothing to earn in those countries. Do not say that I find a mountain for myself in the Cordilleras or the Sierra Nevada: because those are other people's mountains, not mine. For me, those mountains have no beauty and no peace. Give me back my mountains!

"

I was alone a lot. You would think that you can get used to it if you are alone a lot. But not. You can never get used to this one.

"

The birds and the swallows have already left. Only we are left here: me and autumn. My beautiful dream was stolen from my soul by my wild desires for you to come back. But you're gone, summer and dreams are with you. Only the wind was howling and death was wandering around. I stand immersed in withering, And autumn, my sorrow, my soul hurts.

"

Physics? It is just a word like the others that we use to give names to phenomena that we cannot yet clarify. You don't believe in magic. But do you believe that an airplane can be built from a one-ton block of ore that is mined out of the ground, which flies even faster than a swallow?

"

The soul must be healed in order for the cells to be healthy.

"

Good people have beautiful deaths.

"

If a person is not called Christ, then he should not behave as the Bible prescribes, but should follow the customs of organized humanity.

"

We come here from somewhere and then we go somewhere. And where we come from and where we are going is always a secret. This secret always lies within oneself and is unsolvable for others.

"

The ship has long since disappeared. With you and I, we are still waving scarves. And while my eyes wander into the distance, I recall the features of your face. The beating of the sea is trapped on the shores, in it I listen to the music of your voice. And in the wind that tears through my hair, I still feel the warmth of your hands.

"

A message to the house that raised me: even if it is razed to the ground, happy builders will come again in the changing of the guard of generations and dig up the foundation and build a wall, a roof, a church on the ancient, snow-white stone of morality.

"

People need faith to live. They have to believe in something or they are lost.

"

Up in the mountains where we lived, a coal burner once caught a squirrel. He also made a cage for it, a wooden cage. He brought it to me. I was still small then, I didn't know what a cage meant. My grandfather, who was a shepherd in the pastures, told me. The cage, he said, shuts the creature off from God. It shuts the life out of him. The sun, the wind, the trees, the whole world. If you live in a cage, it's as if you don't live at all. Or worse than that. The cage is the devil's invention, my grandfather said. And I let the squirrel out the same day the coal burner brought it.

"

The world is full of things that we cannot understand, we cannot know. That is why you should never say of someone that he is such or such a person because he did this and that. No, you should never say that. Because you never know what moves people. What is it that pushes it this way or that way... Something happens and it all turns this way or that. One can never know, because what one sees is nothing. Great things happen in a way that no one but the person they're meant to see can see.

"

Young means you don't know life yet. He is full of enthusiasm. Governed by passions. He is convinced that the world rests on faulty foundations and that he is called to change these foundations, if only partially, in a very narrow area. Young means: he passes judgment on the old. How I linger. They are careless. They are selfish and helpless. They don't see what needs to be done. Or if they see it, they ignore it out of convenience. They are insensitive to the problems of the people and the nation. (...) When you get tired of a lot of enthusiasm, which you learn is usually fruitless and useless if you don't have the strength to increase it to endurance. But he doesn't know that yet. He only knows youth and that means restlessness. Restlessness. The search for more beautiful and better. Trying new trails. Thank God, a youth who is not like this lacks youth.

"

He who is young pronounces his judgment on the old strictly and relentlessly, and is mostly right. And a judgment on himself at the same time. For the time when he will be old too.

"

God is love. That's what my mother said. God is nothing but love. All that is love is God.

"

Oh, those tears. He couldn't do anything about them. They just came from somewhere very deep, they came, they came following the memories, flooding the eyes and blurring the lines.

"

Think that I will be there by your side, but you can't see it with your eyes. I will be there in the color of the tulips, the buds of the small apple tree, the scent of flowers and the breeze that sometimes ruffles your hair.

"

There was gratitude and sadness in it. Gratitude for the beauty that God gave to the world, and sadness because the person with whom it would have been worth sharing all this beauty was no longer in this world.

"

A man's word is not a wind that comes and goes. (...) What one says must be so. It's not a miracle, it's an honor.

"

If our ancestors had run away every time hard times came, this country would be empty today.

"

You just walk quietly, admiringly, aimlessly, and suddenly you step out into the Purgatory of Angels. You don't even know it is because angels cannot be seen by your eyes. All you see, all you feel is that it is wonderfully beautiful. And you stop. And in that moment, your heart opens and the angels imperceptibly step beside you, one by one, tiptoe, and place their treasures in your heart. The greatest treasures that God created for man. Goodness, love and peace.

"

Our life is a strange little fairy tale, a whimsical game, a funny actor's thing, everything revolves around a gray frame, encrusted with light, full of tears... Our life is a strange little fairy tale.

"

Man plans and plans throughout his life, all he does is plan. This and that. Because it's nice to plan. In life, what you plan doesn't happen anyway, but that doesn't matter anymore. We never get used to planning anyway. Design is life itself. You live as long as you can plan. When I don't have that anymore, then... am I wrong?

"

Work and diligence are the most valuable things in the world. What moves the world forward. Believe me, my dear relative, it decides wars too, not weapons.

"

My God, what a shame, one says, and thinks how nice it would be if foals always remained foals and children were children forever. But that's just a lukewarm thought, an irresponsible thought.

"

Now the world is such that one can believe that simple, beautiful and pure things have been completely removed from it.

"

The children were at home in the summer. They grew up. It's surprising how fast a child can grow. Today he still plays with a whip and a wooden doll. He needs new shoes tomorrow and he's outgrowing his clothes. You don't even notice it and start talking to the elders, you have unknown friends, a web of strange thoughts, desires, goals, and whims is woven around your soul.

"

He sensed that what lay ahead would be a long and difficult journey. But he also knew that he would have the strength for this journey. Because he chose the person he started this life with. And the woman's path goes by her husband's side, in both easy and difficult times.

"

As he saw the trees in front of his eyes like this, he thought. By the time they grow, they shed leaves: time passes, with work, in order. And with time, the world also passes away, this troubled, restless, sad world and another world grows up together with the trees. Whoever will live in that world and walk under these trees will be a peaceful, free and happy person again, as they were in the old days. Those who could pick the fruit from trees and rested in the shade of trees planted by their fathers and grandfathers, always in times of struggle. And thinking that those who eat the fruit of the planted tree and walk in its shade will reap the price of the struggles their ancestors fought with the world. That's how it is, he thought, each generation plants a tree, an idea, a thought, so that many generations don't have to worry about it. So that those who come after that will have a home, a country, a shady garden, and a fruitful orchard ready. And take it as a natural thing. The gift of life, which is free and does not ask for anything in return for its beauty. Not even so much so that those who look at the garden and admire the various trees in their carefree moments think: what must have been the life of the one who found this hill barren and what he must have felt when he planted it with trees. With trees, which he knew would survive him, and the thought hung on the buds would be raised high and passed on to later generations.

"

The greatest legacy you can give your offspring is a home. A house, any house. But whose walls were raised by concern, love, care and the optimistic faith of the future. And trees. Which were not planted by someone to see their benefit. Not even to amuse yourself with them. But because he thought of beauty and the future, he thought of peace and his soul was full of serenity. And he planted it, simply because he loved the tree and through the trees he wanted to say everything that had accumulated in him about the relationship at home and that he could not put into words.

"

Man only plows, sows, hoes and reaps. He carries the gannet, plows again, sows again, again and again. And suddenly he notices that there are gray strands in his hair, his forehead has widened, his beard is already gray and his mustache is shaggy. One can only notice that the foal has become a bony old horse, the children have grown beards and mustaches. Girls who cry in cradles get married and new cradles are born. When a person notices these, he stops in surprise and marvels. God, he says, so... well, we are already like this. Time has passed.

"

There was no more tension in the air that could have occupied their thoughts, planning, deliberation, and that all of this was suddenly gone, they felt as if something had suddenly stopped somewhere. Perhaps the taste of life, the meaning of existence has ceased, or has left in the care of the grown-up children, and they are left there alone in the silent great night.

"

The secret threads of continuity woven into the blanket of time are not easy to find and explain. But the secrets of the soul are always guarded by the inexplicable, and that is why it is worth knowing the past for the sake of the future.

"

It is no consolation to me that millions suffer the same pain as me. What hurts me hurts me.

"

There was only a kali waiting for me in Korbuj, nothing else. No one. Just a bad calibra, a saw and an axe. And a life that had to be carried on because my body demanded food, it demanded crap, and it didn't care that my eyes saw the world as empty, and inside, inside me, I felt that life had ended a long time ago.

"

The biggest enemy of Hungarians abroad is always the Hungarians.

"

How many times in our lives have we heard "forever", "never", "last", and how many times have we said them ourselves, and we didn't feel anything special about it, because we knew that behind "forever" there is no eternity, and "never " there is no final destruction of something behind it.