Miguel de Cervantès Saavedra

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Biography

Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra was a Spanish novelist, poet, and playwright. His novel Don Quixote is often considered his magnum opus, as well as the first modern novel.It is assumed that Miguel de Cervantes was born in Alcalá de Henares. His father was Rodrigo de Cervantes, a surgeon of cordoban descent. Little is known of his mother Leonor de Cortinas, except that she was a native of Arganda del Rey.In 1569, Cervantes moved to Italy, where he served as a valet to Giulio Acquaviva, a wealthy priest who was elevated to cardinal the next year. By then, Cervantes had enlisted as a soldier in a Spanish Navy infantry regiment and continued his military life until 1575, when he was captured by Algerian corsairs. He was then released on ransom from his captors by his parents and the Trinitarians, a Catholic religious order. He subsequently returned to his family in Madrid.In Esquivias (Province of Toledo), on 12 December 1584, he married the much younger Catalina de Salazar y Palacios (Toledo, Esquivias –, 31 October 1626), daughter of Fernando de Salazar y Vozmediano and Catalina de Palacios. Her uncle Alonso de Quesada y Salazar is said to have inspired the character of Don Quixote. During the next 20 years Cervantes led a nomadic existence, working as a purchasing agent for the Spanish Armada and as a tax collector. He suffered a bankruptcy and was imprisoned at least twice (1597 and 1602) for irregularities in his accounts. Between 1596 and 1600, he lived primarily in Seville. In 1606, Cervantes settled in Madrid, where he remained for the rest of his life.Cervantes died in Madrid on April 23, 1616.-Copied from Wikipedia

  • Gender
  • Male
  • Place of birth
  • Alcalá de Henares

Books

Quotes

Demasiada cordura puede ser la peor de las locuras, ver la vida como es y no como debería de ser. Too much sanity may be madness. And maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be.

Until death it is all life,Finally, from so little sleeping and so much reading, his brain dried up and he went completely out of his mind.

The reason for the unreason with which you treat my reason , so weakens my reason that with reason I complain of your beauty.

El que lee mucho y anda mucho, ve mucho y sabe mucho.

Facts are the enemy of truth.

The dead to the grave, the living to the loaf.

Diligence is the mother of good fortune.

Not with whom you are born, but with whom you are bred.

Love and war are exactly alike. It is lawful to use tricks and slights to obtain a desired end.

. . . but once more I say do as you please, for we women are born to this burden of being obedient to our husbands, though they be blockheads,Remember that there are two kinds of beauty: one of the soul and the other of the body. That of the soul displays its radiance in intelligence, in chastity, in good conduct, in generosity, and in good breeding, and all these qualities may exist in an ugly man. And when we focus our attention upon that beauty, not upon the physical, love generally arises with great violence and intensity. I am well aware that I am not handsome, but I also know that I am not deformed, and it is enough for a man of worth not to be a monster for him to be dearly loved, provided he has those spiritual endowments I have spoken of.

All kinds of beauty do not inspire love; there is a kind which only pleases the sight, but does not captivate the affections.

In any case, Cide Hamete Benengeli was a very careful historian, and very accurate in all things, as can be clearly seen in the details he relates to us, for although they are trivial and inconsequential, he does not attempt to pass over them in silence; his example could be followed by solemn historians who recount actions so briefly and succinctly that we can barely taste them, and leave behind in the inkwell, through carelessness, malice, or ignorance, the most substantive part of the work.

He who sings scares away his woes.

There is remedy for all things except death - Don Quixote De La Mancha,After the gratifications of brutish appetites are past, the greatest pleasure then is to get rid of that which entertained it.

If one were to reply that those who compose these books write them as fictions, and therefore are not obliged to consider the fine points of truth, I should respond that the more truthful the fiction, the better it is, and the more probable and possible, the more pleasing. Fictional tales must engage the minds of those who read them, and by restraining exaggeration and moderating impossibility, they enthrall the spirit and thereby astonish, captivate, delight, and entertain, allowing wonder and joy to move together at the same pace; none of these things can be accomplished by fleeing verisimilitude and mimesis, which together constitute perfection in writing.

Be slow of tongue and quick of eye.

. . . truth, whose mother is history, who is the rival of time, depository of deeds, witness of the past, example and lesson to the present, and warning to the future.

A proverb is a short sentence based on long experience.

I do not insist," answered Don Quixote, "that this is a full adventure, but it is the beginning of one, for this is the way adventures begin.

Truth may be stretched, but cannot be broken, and always gets above falsehood, as does oil above water. "~ Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra ~,A closed mouth catches no flies.

Anyone who is ignorant, even a lord and prince, can and should be counted as one of the mob.

All sorrows are less with bread.

Thou hast seen nothing yet.

That which costs little is less valued.

. . . in the worst of circumstances, the hypocrite who pretends to be good does less harm than the public sinner.

. . . if the verses are for a literary competition, your grace should try to win second place; first is always won through favor or because of the high estate of the person, second is won because of pure justice, and by this calculation third becomes second, and the first becomes third. . .

We know already ample experience that it does not require much cleverness or much learning to be a governor, for there are a hundred round about us that scarcely know how to read.

A Man Without Honoris Worse than Dead.

. . . a great man who is vicious will only be a great doer of evil, and a rich man who is not liberal will be only a miserly beggar; for the possessor of wealth is not made happy by possessing it, but by spending it - and not by spending as he please but by knowing how to spend it well. To the poor gentleman there is no other way of showing that he is a gentleman than by virtue, by being affable, well-bred, courteous, gentle-mannered and helpful; not haughty, arrogant or censorious, but above all by being charitable. . . and no one who sees him adorned with the virtues I have mentioned, will fail to recognize and judge him, though he know him not, to be of good stock.

It seems to me a hard case to make slaves of those whom God and nature have made free.

I would do what I pleased, and doing what I pleased, I should have my will, and having my will, I should be contented; and when one is contented, there is no more to be desired; and when there is no more to be desired, there is an end of it.

It is one thing to praise discipline, and another to submit to it.

They must take me for a fool, or even worse, a lunatic. And no wonder ,for I am so intensely conscious of my misfortune and my misery is so overwhelming that I am powerless to resist it and am being turned into stone, devoid of all knowledge or feeling. .

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