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Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…. It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.
”Multilingual Translation Powered by OpenL
Chinese
友谊是不必要的,就像哲学,就像艺术……它对生存没有价值;相反,它是那些赋予生存价值的东西之一。
French
L'amitié est inutile, comme la philosophie, comme l'art... Elle n'a pas de valeur de survie ; plutôt, c'est l'une de ces choses qui donnent de la valeur à la survie.
Arabic
الصداقة غير ضرورية، مثل الفلسفة، مثل الفن... ليس لها قيمة بقاء؛ بل هي واحدة من تلك الأشياء التي تعطي قيمة للبقاء.
Spanish
La amistad es innecesaria, como la filosofía, como el arte... No tiene valor de supervivencia; más bien es una de esas cosas que le dan valor a la supervivencia.
Russian
Дружба необязательна, как философия, как искусство... Она не имеет значения для выживания; скорее она одна из тех вещей, которые придают ценность самому выживанию.
Portuguese
A amizade é desnecessária, como a filosofia, como a arte... Ela não tem valor de sobrevivência; ao contrário, é uma daquelas coisas que dão valor à sobrevivência.
Indonesian
Persahabatan itu tidak perlu, seperti filosofi, seperti seni.... Ini tidak memiliki nilai bertahan hidup; melainkan salah satu hal yang memberikan nilai pada bertahan hidup.
German
Freundschaft ist unnötig, wie Philosophie, wie Kunst... Sie hat keinen Überlebenswert; vielmehr ist sie eine jener Dinge, die dem Überleben Wert verleihen.
Japanese
友情は不必要です、哲学や芸術のように...。それは生存価値がないのではなく、生存に価値を与えるものの一つです。
Hindi
मित्रता अनावश्यक है, जैसे दर्शन, जैसे कला... इसका अस्तित्व के लिए कोई जीवन मूल्य नहीं है; बल्कि यह उन चीजों में से एक है जो जीवन को मूल्य प्रदान करती हैं।
Related Quotes
The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them
Don’t let the bastards grind you down.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told…
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