Dhruti Mehta > Dhruti's Quotes

“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect—you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break—her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.”
― Bob Marley

“Those who create are rare; those who cannot are numerous. Therefore, the latter are stronger.”
― Coco Chanel

“Women have always been the strong ones of the world.”
― Coco Chanel

“A fashion that does not reach the streets is not a fashion”
― Coco Chanel

“Innovation! One cannot be forever innovating. I want to create classics”
― Coco Chanel

“Capel said, "Remember that you're a woman." All too often I forgot that.”
― Coco Chanel, Coco Chanel: An Intimate Life

“When I find a colour darker than black, I'll wear it. But until then, I'm wearing black!”
― Coco Chanel

“Dress shabbily and they remember the dress; dress impeccably and they remember the woman.”
― Coco Chanel

“It’s probably not just by chance that I’m alone. It would be very hard for a man to live with me, unless he’s terribly strong. And if he’s stronger than I, I’m the one who can’t live with him. … I’m neither smart nor stupid, but I don’t think I’m a run-of-the-mill person. I’ve been in business without being a businesswoman, I’ve loved without being a woman made only for love. The two men I’ve loved, I think, will remember me, on earth or in heaven, because men always remember a woman who caused them concern and uneasiness. I’ve done my best, in regard to people and to life, without precepts, but with a taste for justice.”
― Coco Chanel

“The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely.”
― Charlotte Brontë

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”
― Anais Nin

“Fantasy is hardly an escape from reality. It's a way of understanding it.”
― Lloyd Alexander

“You never have to change anything you got up in the middle of the night to write.”
― Saul Bellow

“Fiction is the truth inside the lie.”
― Stephen King

“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”
― E.L. Doctorow

“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”
― Anton Chekhov

“Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind; And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind. Nor hath love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste: And therefore is love said to be a child, Because in choice he is so oft beguil'd.”
― William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

“India is the cradle of the human race, the birthplace of human speech, the mother
of history, the grandmother of legend and the great grand mother of tradition”
― Mark Twain.

“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists.. it is real.. it is possible.. it's yours.”
― Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

“Time takes it all whether you want it to or not, time takes it all. Time bares it away, and in the end there is only darkness. Sometimes we find others in that darkness, and sometimes we lose them there again.”
― Stephen King

“I believe you did not have a happy life.
I believe you were cheated.
I believe your best friends were loneliness and misery.
I believe your busiest enemies were anger and depression.
I believe joy was a game you could never play without stumbling.
I believe comfort, though you craved it, was forever a stranger.
I believe music had to be melancholy or not at all.
I believe no trinket, no precious metal, shone so bright as your bitterness.
I believe you lay down at last in your coffin none the wiser and unassuaged.
Oh, cold and dreamless under the wild, amoral, reckless, peaceful flowers of the hillsides.”
― Mary Oliver White Heron Rises Over Blackwater

“As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.”
― Anne Sexton

“I am alone here in my own mind.
There is no map
and there is no road.
It is one of a kind
just as yours is.”
― Anne Sexton

“I am a collection of dismantled almosts.”
― Anne Sexton, Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters

“I’m lost. And it’s my own fault. It’s about time I figured out that I can’t ask people to keep me found.”
― Anne Sexton

“Wanting to Die

Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the almost unnameable lust returns.

Even then I have nothing against life.
I know well the grass blades you mention,
the furniture you have placed under the sun.

But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They never ask why build.

Twice I have so simply declared myself,
have possessed the enemy, eaten the enemy,
have taken on his craft, his magic.

In this way, heavy and thoughtful,
warmer than oil or water,
I have rested, drooling at the mouth-hole.

I did not think of my body at needle point.
Even the cornea and the leftover urine were gone.
Suicides have already betrayed the body.

Still-born, they don't always die,
but dazzled, they can't forget a drug so sweet
that even children would look on and smile.

To thrust all that life under your tongue!—
that, all by itself, becomes a passion.
Death's a sad Bone; bruised, you'd say,

and yet she waits for me, year after year,
to so delicately undo an old wound,
to empty my breath from its bad prison.

Balanced there, suicides sometimes meet,
raging at the fruit, a pumped-up moon,
leaving the bread they mistook for a kiss,

leaving the page of the book carelessly open,
something unsaid, the phone off the hook
and the love, whatever it was, an infection.”
― Anne Sexton

“All day I've built
a lifetime and now
the sun sinks to
undo it. ”
― Anne Sexton, The Complete Poems

“Suicide is, after all, the opposite of the poem.”
― Anne Sexton

“O starry night, This is how I want to die”
― Anne Sexton, The Complete Poems

“Meanwhile in my head, I’m undergoing open-heart surgery.”
― Anne Sexton