Daniela > Daniela's Quotes

“When you're in a competitive environment, always give out the impression that you don't care. It makes people want you more. If you act desperate, it's over. I think a passive attitude is helpful. It comes naturally because I'm lazy.”
― Diablo Cody

“That was part of being a girl--you were resigned to whatever feedback you'd get. If you got mad, you were crazy, and if you didn't react, you were a bitch. The only thing you could do was smile from the corner they'd backed you into. Implicate yourself in the joke even if the joke was always on you.”
― Emma Cline, The Girls

“Grief manifested itself in ways that felt like anything but grief; grief obliterated all feelings but grief; grief made a twin wear the same shirt for days on end to preserve the morning on which the dead were still living; grief made a twin peel stars off the ceiling and lie in bed with glowing points adhered to fingertips; grief was bad-tempered, grief was kind; grief saw nothing but itself, grief saw every speck of pain in the world; grief spread its wings large like an eagle, grief huddled small like a porcupine; grief needed company, grief craved solitude; grief wanted to remember, wanted to forget; grief raged, grief whimpered; grief made time compress and contract; grief tasted like hunger, felt like numbness, sounded like silence; grief tasted like bile, felt like blades, sounded like all the noise of the world. Grief was a shape-shifter, and invisible too; grief could be captured as reflection in a twin’s eye. Grief heard its death sentence the morning you both woke up and one was singing and the other caught the song.”
― Kamila Shamsie, Home Fire

“Vicarious traumatization. It can happen to those who bear secondary witness to the traumas of others.”
― Wally Lamb, The Hour I First Believed

“The non-jocks, the readers, the gay kids, the ones starting to stew about social injustice: for these kids, "letting your freak flag fly" is both self discovery and self defense. You cry for this bunch at the mandatory pep assemblies. Huddled together, miserably, in the upper reaches of the bleachers, wearing their oversized raincoats and their secondhand Salvation Army clothes, they stare down at the school-sanctioned celebration of the A list students. They know bullying, these kids--especially the ones who frefuse to exist under the radar. They're tripped in the hallway, shoved against lockers, pelted with Skittles in the lunchroom. For the most part, their tormentors are stealth artists.

The freaks know where there's refuge: I the library, the theater program, art class, creative writing.”
― Wally Lamb, The Hour I First Believed

“Call me old-fashioned, but I did read in Glamour that one’s shorts should always be longer than one’s vagina.”
― Helen Fielding, Mad About the Boy

“We cannot avoid pain, we cannot avoid loss. Contentment comes from the ease and flexibility with which we move through change.”
― Helen Fielding, Mad About the Boy

“I couldn't motivate myself. I was subject to occasional depression, relatively mild, certainly not suicidal, and not long episodes so much as passing moments like this, when meaning and purpose and all prospect of pleasure drained away and left me briefly catatonic. For minutes on end I couldn't remember what kept me going. As I stared at the litter of cups and pot and jug in front of me, I thought it was unlikely I would ever get out of my wretched little flat. The two boxes I called rooms, the stained ceilings walls and floors would contain me to the end. There was a lot like me in the neighbourhood, but thirty or forty years older. I had seen them in Simon's shop, reaching for the quality journals from the top shelf. I noted the men especially and their shabby clothes. They had swept past some crucial junction in their lives many years back - a poor career choice, a bad marriage, the unwritten book, the illness that never went away. Now there options were closed, they managed to keep themselves going with some shred of intellectual longing or curiosity. But their boat was sunk.”
― Ian McEwan, Machines like Me

“As Schopenhauer said about free will, you can choose whatever you desire, but you’re not free to choose your desires.”
― Ian McEwan, Machines Like Me

“She murmured, We could always blame the stars. I beg your pardon, Doctor? That's what influenza means, she said. Influenza delle stelle—the influence of the stars. Medieval Italians thought the illness proved that the heavens were governing their fates, that people were quite literally star-crossed. I pictured that, the celestial bodies trying to fly us like upsidedown kites. Or perhaps just yanking on us for their obscure amusement.”
― Emma Donoghue, The Pull of the Stars

“The human race settles on terms with every plague in the end, the doctor told her. Or a stalemate, at the least. We somehow muddle along, sharing the earth with each new form of life.”
― Emma Donoghue, The Pull of the Stars

“I seem to have stumbled onto love, like a pothole in the night.”
― Emma Donoghue, The Pull of the Stars

“[...] And women are always like that.'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, all the women I know who've left long-term relationships in their thirties checked out of it long before they actually did. They went through all the grief when they were still together with the guy. Played through all the scenarios, processed their feelings - so when the split actually happened, they just felt light and free. Men take it worse. They pretend not to, but they do. They haven't laid any preparations.'
'Right. [...].”
― Jessie Burton, The Confession

“A te - si era arrabbiata - tuo padre t'ha privato di una famiglia grande, di tutti quanti noi, nonni, zii, cugini, che non siamo intelligenti ed educati come lui; ci ha tagliati via con l'accetta, t'ha fatta crescere isolata, per paura che ti guastassimo. Sprizzava astio e tuttavia quelle parole adesso mi davano sollievo, me le ripetei nella testa. Affermavano l'esistenza di un legame forte e positivo, lo pretendevano. Mia zia non aveva detto: tu hai la mia faccia o almeno un po' mi assomigli; mia zia aveva detto: tu non sei solo di tuo padre e tua madre, tu sei anche mia, tu sei di tutta la famiglia da cui lui è venuto fuori, e chi sta dalla parte nostra non è mai solo, si carica di forza.”
― Elena Ferrante, La vita bugiarda degli adulti

“Due anni prima di andarsene di casa mio padre disse a mia madre che ero molto brutta. La frase fu pronunciata sottovoce, nell’appartamento che, appena sposati, i miei genitori avevano acquistato al Rione Alto, in cima a San Giacomo dei Capri. Tutto - gli spazi di Napoli, la luce blu di un febbraio gelido, quelle parole - è rimasto fermo. Io invece sono scivolata via e continuo a scivolare anche adesso, dentro queste righe che vogliono darmi una storia mentre in effetti non sono niente, niente di mio, niente che sia davvero cominciato o sia davvero arrivato a compimento: solo un garbuglio che nessuno, nemmeno chi in questo momento sta scrivendo, sa se contiene il filo giusto di un racconto o è soltanto un dolore arruffato, senza redenzione.”
― Elena Ferrante, La vita bugiarda degli adulti

“Bugie, bugie, gli adulti le vietano, intanto ne dicono tante.”
― Elena Ferrante, The Lying Life of Adults

“I wish you enough. Enough sun to light up your days, enough rain that you appreciate the sun. Enough joy to strengthen your soul, enough pain that you can appreciate life's small moments of happiness. And enough friends that you can manage a farewell now and then.”
― Sofia Lundberg, Den röda adressboken

“Have you noticed how easily the very young die? They make the best martyrs for any cause, the best soldiers, the best suicides. It's because they're held here so lightly: they haven't yet accumulated loves and responsibilities and commitments and all the things that tie us securely to this world. They can let go of it as easily and simply as lifting a finger. But as you get older, you begin to find things that are worth holding onto, forever.”
― Tana French, The Likeness

“There are a few times in life when you leap up and the past that you'd been standing on falls away behind you, and the future you mean to land on is not yet in place, and for a moment you're suspended knowing nothing and no one, not even yourself.”
― Ann Patchett, The Dutch House

“Lost love belongs in a three-minute song, pullling back feelings from a time when they came unbidden, recalling the infatuation, the walking on sunshine that cannot last and the pain of its loss, whether through parting or the passage of time, reminding us that we are emotional beings”
― Graeme Simsion, The Best of Adam Sharp

“I want to be able to listen to recording of piano sonatas and know who's playing. I want to go to classical concerts and know when you're meant to clap. I want to be able to 'get' modern jazz without it all sounding like this terrible mistake, and I want to know who the Velvet Underground are exactly. I want to be fully engaged in the World of Ideas, I want to understand complex economics, and what people see in Bob Dylan. I want to possess radical but humane and well-informed political ideals, and I want to hold passionate but reasoned debates round wooden kitchen tables, saying things like 'define your terms!' and 'your premise is patently specious!' and then suddenly to discover that the sun's come up and we've been talking all night. I want to use words like 'eponymous' and 'solipsistic' and 'utilitarian' with confidence. I want to learn to appreciate fine wines, and exotic liquers, and fine single malts, and learn how to drink them without turning into a complete div, and to eat strange and exotic foods, plovers' eggs and lobster thermidor, things that sound barely edible, or that I can't pronounce...Most of all I want to read books; books thick as brick, leather-bound books with incredibly thin paper and those purple ribbons to mark where you left off; cheap, dusty, second-hand books of collected verse, incredibly expensive, imported books of incomprehensible essays from foregin universities.

At some point I'd like to have an original idea...And all of these are the things that a university education's going to give me.”
― David Nicholls, Starter for Ten

“the greatest lie that age tells about youth is that it’s somehow free of care, worry or fear. Good God, doesn’t anyone remember?”
― David Nicholls, Sweet Sorrow