He was like a song I’d heard once in fragments but had been singing in my mind ever since.
Arthur Golden
Knowing how to be solitary is central to the art of loving. Once we can be alone, we can be with others without using them as a means of escape.
bell hooks
Everything I’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.
David Foster Wallace
The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
She was extending a hand that I didn’t know how to take, so I broke its fingers with my silence.
Jonathan Safran Foer
Strange thoughts brew in your heart when you spend too much time with old books.
Aravind Adiga, White Tiger
Poe, “The Philosophy of Composition” 1846
“the poet’s eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven; and as imagination bodies forth, the forms of things unknown: the poet’s pen turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing a local habitation and a name.”
n. the moment you realize that you’re currently happy—consciously trying to savor the feeling—which prompts your intellect to identify it, pick it apart and put it in context, where it will slowly dissolve until it’s little more than an aftertaste.
