Steffi > Steffi's Quotes

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  • #1
    Jeanette Winterson
    “Whoever it is you fall in love with for the first time, not just love but be in love with, is the one who will always make you angry, the one you can't be logical about.”
    Jeanette Winterson, The Passion

  • #2
    Jeanette Winterson
    “What is more humiliating than finding the object of your love unworthy?”
    Jeanette Winterson, The Passion

  • #3
    André Aciman
    “We rip out so much of ourselves to be cured of things faster than we should that we go bankrupt by the age of thirty and have less to offer each time we start with someone new. But to feel nothing so as not to feel anything - what a waste!”
    Andre Aciman, Call Me by Your Name

  • #4
    Haruki Murakami
    “You are a pastel-colored Persian carpet, and loneliness is a Bordeaux wine stain that won’t come out”
    Haruki Murakami, Men Without Women: Stories

  • #5
    Anne Carson
    “Eros is an issue of boundaries. He exists because certain boundaries do. In the interval between reach and grasp, between glance and counterglance, between ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you too,’ the absent presence of desire comes alive. But the boundaries of time and glance and I love you are only aftershocks of the main, inevitable boundary that creates Eros: the boundary of flesh and self between you and me. And it is only, suddenly, at the moment when I would dissolve that boundary, I realize I never can.”
    Anne Carson, Eros the Bittersweet

  • #6
    Richard Siken
    “Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
    These, our bodies, possessed by light.
    Tell me we'll never get used to it.”
    Richard Siken, Crush

  • #7
    Richard Siken
    “The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling, and they’re only a few steps behind you, finding the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we weren’t stitched up quite right, the place they could almost slip right into through if the skin wasn’t trying to keep them out, to keep them here, on the other side of the theater where the curtain keeps rising. I crawled out the window and ran into the woods. I had to make up all the words myself. The way they taste, the way they sound in the air. I passed through the narrow gate, stumbled in, stumbled around for a while, and stumbled back out. I made this place for you. A place for to love me. If this isn’t a kingdom then I don’t know what is.”
    Richard Siken, Crush

  • #8
    Audre Lorde
    “If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
    Audre Lorde

  • #9
    Hanya Yanagihara
    “Who am I? Who am I?”
    “You’re Jude St. Francis. You are my oldest, dearest friend. You’re the son of Harold Stein and Julia Altman. You’re the friend of Malcolm Irvine, of Jean-Baptiste Marion, of Richard Goldfarb, of Andy Contractor, of Lucien Voigt, of Citizen van Straaten, of Rhodes Arrowsmith, of Elijah Kozma, of Phaedra de los Santos, of the Henry Youngs. You’re a New Yorker. You live in SoHo. You volunteer for an arts organization; you volunteer for a food kitchen. You’re a swimmer. You’re a baker. You’re a cook. You’re a reader. You have a beautiful voice, though you never sing anymore. You’re an excellent pianist. You’re an art collector. You write me lovely messages when I’m away. You’re patient. You’re generous. You’re the best listener I know. You’re the smartest person I know, in every way. You’re the bravest person I know, in every way. You’re a lawyer. You’re the chair of the litigation department at Rosen Pritchard and Klein. You love your job; you work hard at it. You’re a mathematician. You’re a logician. You’ve tried to teach me, again and again. You were treated horribly. You came out on the other end. You were always you.”

    "And who are you?"
    "I'm Willem Ragnarsson. And I will never let you go.”
    Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

  • #10
    Rupi Kaur
    “people go but how they left always stays”
    Rupi Kaur, Milk and honey

  • #11
    Rupi Kaur
    “i am hopelessly
    a lover and
    a dreamer and
    that will be the
    death of me”
    Rupi Kaur, Milk and honey



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