Umberto Eco Quotes About Devil

Quotes about: Devil

• The Devil is not the Prince of Matter; the Devil is the arrogance of the spirit, faith without smile, truth that is never seized by doubt. The Devil is grim because he knows where he is going, and, in moving, he always returns whence he came.

  Umberto Eco

  Moving, Arrogance, Doubt

  Umberto Eco (2014). “The Name of the Rose”, p.511, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

• What is love? There is nothing in the world, neither man nor Devil nor any thing, that I hold as suspect as love, for it penetrates the soul more than any other thing. Nothing exists that so fills and binds the heart as love does. Therefore, unless you have those weapons that subdue it, the soul plunges through love into an immense abyss.

  Umberto Eco

  Love, Heart, Men

  Umberto Eco (2014). “The Name of the Rose”, p.247, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

• For what I saw at the abbey then (and will now recount) caused me to think that often inquisitors create heretics. And not only in the sense that they imagine heretics where these do not exist, but also that inquisitors repress the heretical putrefaction so vehemently that many are driven to share in it, in their hatred for the judges. Truly, a circle conceived by the Devil. God preserve us.

  Umberto Eco

  Book, Thinking, Circles

  "The Name Of The Rose". Book by Umberto Eco, 1980.

• To escape the power of the unknown, to prove to yourself that you don't believe in it, you accept its spells. Like an avowed atheist who sees the Devil at night, you reason: He certainly doesn't exist; this is therefore an illusion, perhaps a result of indigestion. But the Devil is sure that he exists, and believes in his upside-down theology. What, then, will frighten him? You make the sign of the cross, and he vanishes in a puff of brimstone.

  Umberto Eco

  Atheist, Believe, Book

  Umberto Eco (2007). “Foucault's Pendulum”, p.171, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

• All the stories I would like to write persecute me. When I am in my chamber, it seems as if they are all around me, like little devils, and while one tugs at my ear, another tweaks my nose, and each says to me, 'Sir, write me, I am beautiful.

  Umberto Eco

  Beautiful, Writing, Devil

  Umberto Eco (2006). “The Island of the Day Before”, p.94, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt

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