Erik Pevernagie Quotes

Silence is a 'contingent' phenomenon with positive or negative qualities. When it has to be assessed it needs to be 'contextualized' by exploring its background.

Life is merely a series of moments and is in fact an unflinching serial killer, since it kills steadily each moment one after the other. Memory is the only survivor. (“Just for a moment”)

When time furtively slips like sand through the fingers and our memory becomes tired and lazy, we recognize we are at war. We are at war with forgetfulness. ("The past was her best friend" )

Shrink wrapped ideas and prefabricated thoughts are a result of sloth and laziness. ("Prêt-à-penser")

Once we get to know where and why the skeletons of the past are buried, we can start wading across our muddled memories into the open plains of a new horizon. ("Going back to yesterday")

Recollection builds up our personality. Our individuality is based on all the little pieces we assembled in the past. ("The past was her best friend")

Some are in tune with the swanky, but not in tune with themselves. Their desire has become the desire of the others ('''Buying now. Dying later''')

Love is hope and expectation. If many want to pencil it in, some don’t dare to ink it in, because love also means mystery and enigma. ( " Love as dizzy as a cathedral")

Some men can be good ' horse whisperers ' and many dogs can be wonderful ' man whisperers '.

If thinking and reason crack under pressure of emotional convulsions or when commissioned facts are resulting from fibs and fake constructions, truth may be in great peril. ( ”Blame storming”)

Better thinking out loud than suffocating from frustration. ("The upper lip must never tremble" )

In the land of the ostriches, the blind are king. When politicians bury their head in the sand, ignorance rules the country. ( "High noon." )

Only if we transvalue the plain-vanilla standards of our life, we may bring back things to light and sense the lies behind perceptions. ("Behind the frosted glass")

Memory may be pig-headed and want us to follow its whims along the blips and dips of our time line. ( "All the words he always wanted to tell her.")

Is love just a butterfly? Love can tell us so many things about the deep waters of our inner self and the secrecy in the hidden brushwood of our emotions. ("Alpha and Omega")

We are all the construction of a story and it is only at the end that we can assess the value of the plot. ("Everybody his story")

People are not dying of lack of money but of lack of esteem and awareness. ("Kein Schwein ruft mich an")

Some feel lucky, if they haven't got to be happy, as they don’t like their frame of mind to be unravelled and prefer to be left well enough alone. ( "C’est quand le bonheur ?" )

Conversation often becomes mere verbal performance and oral horseplay rather than fair-minded communication. (“Juicy rumours “)

For the discovery of self we have to overcome the fear of self, so as to find the marrow ‘within’ and disclose our ‘true’ self. ("Everybody his story")

Life is an intricate play with actors waiting for an explanation. Each added act confers a new interpretation of the story. ( "Waiting for the pieces to fall into place" )

Love is like a musical score, sometimes very tuneful, creating a harmony of sounds, sometimes extremely harsh, striking a hell of false notes. (“Love lying fallow “)

When the bonfire of love still smolders in the wake of emotional convulsions, seeds of regret and remorse may endlessly linger about on the path of life. ("Taken for a ride)

Regret and remorse” is a dialectic issue about what has been done, about what should have been done and about what should not have been done. ( “Island of regret. Island of remorse” )

Love is illiterate. Whether we write it big or small, we cannot read it. We might only guess. ( "I seek you" )

When love becomes a play of squirming mindgames or a tinderbox of mental conflicts, emotional benchmarks need an unremitting reset. ("Another empty room")

When fiction has become reality, life may turn into a fairy tale or a firestorm. Tina, time has come to pull up one’s socks and start relearning and reassessing living. ("Another empty room")

People die from lack of shared empathy and affinity. By establishing social connectedness, we give hope a chance and the other can become heaven. ( "Le ciel c'est l'autre" )

When scorching passion only leaves ashes of unfulfilled dreams, hope may entice the sprinkling magic of our imagination into livening up the footlights on a new stage of life. ("Taken for a ride")

If bees die, people will die. Only ignorance never dies! ("Why step out of nature ?")

Let us keep enough money to enjoy each breath we take, but definitely not too much, if we don’t want to spoil the fragrance of our dreams and the poem of life.

What a wonderful world it could be, when spiritual factions would choose to read sacred writings as colorful metaphors and not as bloody declarations of war. (“Is heaven a place in the sky?”)

A living together becomes a living apart, when the pineal gland has not been able to create a luster of spiritual togetherness and emotional attachment. (“I wonder what went wrong.” )

Emotion often outwits intelligence, while intuition renders life surprisingly fluent and enjoyable. ("Le ciel c'est l'autre")

Is heaven a place in the sky?Heaven is what we wear in our heart and in our mind. ( “Is heaven a place in the sky?” )

When words remain unspoken and emotions are left unexpressed, just a glint in the eyes from otherness can inflame the mind and rouse a shower of empathy. ("Only needed a light ")

In a world spoiled by the obituary of attention and the dormancy of empathy, people are coming up short of authentic emotion. (“The upper lip must never tremble”)

When perception, thoughtfulness and understanding do meet, we can fashion a range of viable expectations and craft a world of togetherness. ("Morning after")

That we may not fall short of desire, but let us give way to the unspoken passion hidden in the closet of our discretion. (“Crépuscule du désir”)

Let us dare to dream and shoot for the moon. Even if we don’t fetch the moon, a million stars may fill us with wonder. ("Happiness blowing in the wind")

Reality is not what we see, reality is what we think we see.

When living is too sweet and swanky, it may be very hard to appreciate the simplest things in life. (“Is that all there is?”)

Hope always comes after evil has done its work. We cannot keep living on hope, though. (Box of Pandora)

Let us doom and gloom not creep into our day and lust for life not wither away. With the future as brother-in-arms, steps in the unknown should not frighten. ("Steps in the unknown" )

Let us use words carefully, because words can betray and kill.( "A gap of silence")

Let us speak less and say more. ( “Words flew away like birds” )

When words have vanished, when daily habits have extinguished emotional exchange, only killing silence remains and indifference takes over. ( "Words had disappeared" )

People are seen through the stained glass window of our imagination. ( "The hidden sides of his character" )

Pigs should not make friends with butchers. One must choose one's friends wisely.

When we feel we have benched ourselves for too long, we must loosen up the unessential, get over our endless cringing and make a bold leap to the glowing stars of our dream. ("Steaming ahead" )