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  • #1
    Gabriel García Márquez
    “He dug so deeply into her sentiments that in search of interest he found love, because by trying to make her love him he ended up falling in love with her. Petra Cotes, for her part, loved him more and more as she felt his love increasing, and that was how in the ripeness of autumn she began to believe once more in the youthful superstition that poverty was the servitude of love. Both looked back then on the wild revelry, the gaudy wealth, and the unbridled fornication as an annoyance and they lamented that it had cost them so much of their lives to find the paradise of shared solitude. Madly in love after so many years of sterile complicity, they enjoyed the miracle of living each other as much at the table as in bed, and they grew to be so happy that even when they were two worn-out people they kept on blooming like little children and playing together like dogs.”
    Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

  • #2
    Hermann Hesse
    “For what I always hated and detested and cursed above all things was this contentment, this healthiness and comfort, this carefully preserved optimism of the middle classes, this fat and prosperous brood of mediocrity.”
    Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

  • #3
    Hermann Hesse
    “Man designs for himself a garden with a hundred kinds of trees, a thousand kinds of flowers, a hundred kinds of fruit and vegetables. Suppose, then, that the gardener of this garden knew no other distinction between edible and inedible, nine-tenths of this garden would be useless to him. He would pull up the most enchanting flowers and hew down the noblest trees and even regard them with a loathing and envious eye. This is what the Steppenwolf does with the thousand flowers of his soul. What does not stand classified as either man or wolf he does not see at all. ”
    Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf

  • #4
    Sue Monk Kidd
    “It is the peculiar nature of the world to go on spinning no matter what sort of heartbreak is happening.”
    Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

  • #5
    Sue Monk Kidd
    “We are so limited, you have to use the same word for loving Rosaleen as you do for loving Coke with peanuts. Isn't that a shame we don't have many more ways to say it?”
    Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees
    tags: love

  • #6
    Sue Monk Kidd
    “Drifting off to sleep, I thought about her. How nobody is perfect. How you just have to close your eyes and breathe out and let the puzzle of the human heart be what it is.”
    Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

  • #7
    Harper Lee
    “As you grow older, you’ll see white men cheat black men every day of your life, but let me tell you something and don’t you forget it—whenever a white man does that to a black man, no matter who he is, how rich he is, or how fine a family he comes from, that white man is trash”
    Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

  • #8
    Desmond Tutu
    “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse, and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”
    Desmond Tutu (Foreword)

  • #9
    Doris Lessing
    “Ideally, what should be said to every child, repeatedly, throughout his or her school life is something like this: 'You are in the process of being indoctrinated. We have not yet evolved a system of education that is not a system of indoctrination. We are sorry, but it is the best we can do. What you are being taught here is an amalgam of current prejudice and the choices of this particular culture. The slightest look at history will show how impermanent these must be. You are being taught by people who have been able to accommodate themselves to a regime of thought laid down by their predecessors. It is a self-perpetuating system. Those of you who are more robust and individual than others will be encouraged to leave and find ways of educating yourself — educating your own judgements. Those that stay must remember, always, and all the time, that they are being moulded and patterned to fit into the narrow and particular needs of this particular society.”
    Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook

  • #10
    Tove Jansson
    “The quiet transition from autumn to winter is not a bad time at all. It's a time for protecting and securing things and for making sure you've got in as many supplies as you can. It's nice to gather together everything you possess as close to you as possible, to store up your warmth and your thoughts and burrow yourself into a deep hole inside, a core of safety where you can defend what is important and precious and your very own. Then the cold and the storms and the darkness can do their worst. They can grope their way up the walls looking for a way in, but they won't find one, everything is shut, and you sit inside, laughing in your warmth and your solitude, for you have had foresight.”
    Tove Jansson, Moominvalley in November

  • #11
    Haruki Murakami
    “I'm a very ordinary human being; I just happen to like reading books.”
    Haruki Murakami, 1Q84

  • #12
    Milan Kundera
    “Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer vertigo. What is vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves.”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #13
    Milan Kundera
    “for there is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels with someone, for someone, a pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echoes.”
    Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

  • #14
    Mikhail Bulgakov
    “Everything will turn out right, the world is built on that.”
    Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita

  • #15
    Arundhati Roy
    “But what was there to say?

    Only that there were tears. Only that Quietness and Emptiness fitted together like stacked spoons. Only that there was a snuffling in the hollows at the base of a lovely throat. Only that a hard honey-colored shoulder had a semicircle of teethmarks on it. Only that they held each other close, long after it was over. Only that what they shared that night was not happiness, but hideous grief.

    Only that once again they broke the Love Laws. That lay down who should be loved. And how. And how much.”
    Arundhati Roy, The God of Small Things

  • #16
    Tove Jansson
    “All things are so very uncertain, and that's exactly what makes me feel reassured.”
    Tove Jansson, Moominland Midwinter

  • #17
    Tove Jansson
    “Making a journey by night is more wonderful than anything in the world.”
    Tove Jansson, Moominpappa at Sea

  • #18
    Paolo Giordano
    “Choices are made in brief seconds and paid for in the time that remains.”
    Paolo Giordano, The Solitude of Prime Numbers

  • #19
    Virginia Woolf
    “Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.”
    Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

  • #20
    Milan Kundera
    “How could she feel nostalgia when he was right in front of her? How can you suffer from the absence of a person who is present?

    You can suffer nostalgia in the presence of the beloved if you glimpse a future where the beloved is no more”
    Milan Kundera, Identity

  • #21
    Tan Twan Eng
    “Memory is like patches of sunlight in an overcast valley, shifting with the movement of the clouds. Now and then the light will fall on a particular point in time, illuminating it for a moment before the wind seals up the gap, and the world is in shadows again.”
    Tan Twan Eng, The Garden of Evening Mists

  • #22
    Nicole Krauss
    “Loneliness: there is no organ that can take it all.”
    Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

  • #23
    Nicole Krauss
    “I want to say somewhere: I've tried to be forgiving. And yet. There were times in my life, whole years, when anger got the better of me. Ugliness turned me inside out. There was a certain satisfaction in bitterness. I courted it. It was standing outside, and I invited it in.”
    Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

  • #24
    Nicole Krauss
    “She was gone, and all that was left was the space you'd grown around her, like a tree that grows around a fence. For a long time, it remained hollow. Years, maybe. And when at last it was filled again, you knew that the new love you felt for a woman would have been impossible without Alma. If it weren't for her, there would never have been an empty space, or the need to fill it.”
    Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

  • #25
    Nicole Krauss
    “We met each other when we were young, before we knew enough about disappointment, and once we did we found we reminded each other of it.”
    Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

  • #26
    Anne Enright
    “I have no place left to live but in my own heart.”
    Anne Enright, The Gathering

  • #27
    Jeanette Winterson
    “I seem to have run in a great circle, and met myself again on the starting line.”
    Jeanette Winterson, Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit

  • #28
    Paul Kalanithi
    “Human knowledge is never contained in one person. It grows from the relationships we create between each other and the world, and still it is never complete.”
    Paul Kalanithi, When Breath Becomes Air

  • #29
    “I am poppies in the field
    Red and cold
    I am sleeping alone
    and
    I am light
    I am light
    I am light”
    Bella Betina

  • #30
    Gene Wolfe
    “We talk of strong personalities, and they are strong, until the not-every-day when we see them as we might see one woman alone in a desert, and know that all the strength we thought we knew was only courage, only her lone song echoing among the stones; and then at last when we have understood this and made up our minds to hear the song and admire its courage and its sweetness, we wait for the next note and it does not come. The last word, with its pure tone, echoes and fades and is gone, and we realize—only then—that we do not know what it was, that we have been too intent on the melody to hear even one word. We go then to find the singer, thinking she will be standing where we last saw her. There are only bones and sand and a few faded rags.”
    Gene Wolfe, Peace



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