Sarah > Sarah's Quotes

“And still, after all this time,
The sun never says to the earth,
"You owe Me."

Look what happens with
A love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky.”
― Hafiz

“Tea! That's all I needed! Good cup of tea! Super-heated infusion of free-radicals and tannin, just the thing for healing the synapses.”
― Russell T. Davies

“Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe.”
― Anatole France

“Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.”
― John Lennon

“Do you know — I hardly remembered you?"
"Hardly remembered me?"
"I mean: how shall I explain? I — it's always so. Each time you happen to me all over again.”
― Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

“Sweet Jude. You are my dearest punishment.”
― Holly Black, The Wicked King

“I had absolutely no interest in being somebody else's muse.
I am not a muse.
I am the somebody.
End of fucking story.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Daisy Jones & The Six

“I wish someone had told me that love isn’t torture. Because I thought love was this thing that was supposed to tear you in two and leave you heartbroken and make your heart race in the worst way. I thought love was bombs and tears and blood. I did not know that it was supposed to make you lighter, not heavier. I didn’t know it was supposed to take only the kind of work that makes you softer. I thought love was war. I didn’t know it was supposed to… I didn’t know it was supposed to be peace.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Daisy Jones & The Six

“She had written something that felt like I could have written it, except I knew I couldn't have. I wouldn't have come up with something like that. Which is what we all want from art, isn’t it? When someone pins down something that feels like it lives inside us? Takes a piece of your heart out and shows it to you? It’s like they are introducing you to a part of yourself.”
― Taylor Jenkins Reid, Daisy Jones & The Six

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?”
― Mary Oliver

“A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.”
― Robert Frost

“You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.”
― Mary Oliver

“...and then, I have nature and art and poetry, and if that is not enough, what is enough?”
― Vincent Willem van Gogh

“If you hear a voice within you say you cannot paint, then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.”
― Vincent Willem van Gogh

“If I am worth anything later, I am worth something now. For wheat is wheat, even if people think it is a grass in the beginning.”
― Vincent van Gogh

“Art is to console those who are broken by life.”
― Vincent van Gogh

“Con: Do I really want my professional nemesis texting me Bigfoot erotica? Pro: Yes I do.”
― Emily Henry, Book Lovers

“A House of My Own
Not a flat. Not an apartment in back. Not a man's house. Not a daddy's. A house all my own. With my porch and my pillow, my pretty purple petunias. My books and my stories. My two shoes waiting beside the bed. Nobody to shake a stick at. Nobody's garbage to pick up after.
Only a house quiet as snow, a space for myself to go, clean as paper before the poem.”
― Cisneros, Sandra

“In the beginning was love.
Curiosity.
Imagination.”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“And as the night sets in
you come home
lay your head against my shoulder
and tell me about all the little things
you did today”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“There is no question for the deer
of whether they are meant to be here,
now,
wading through the water

They are inevitable.
Timeless.
Unrestrained.”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“And we are
born for this
Of this
Earth
Womb, water, words

We are born for this
This is our natural habitat.”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“I was not
created from the rib of a man
but from songs of trees
and tales of distant seas”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“I want to sit on the middle of the living room floor in a ratty old nightgown with lanky hair, weeping into yesterday’s Chinese takeaway

to pretend I’m five and make a pillow fort under the dining table

to run into the woods and scream until I have no voice

to lie in bed all day doing nothing

And for you to love me
just as fiercely
just as sweetly
as when you say you’re proud of me”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“One morning, you will wake up
And the ocean will be calm
You will shed all of those other skins
And step into the water, fresh and new”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“The Muse does not arrive at my convenience,
nor does she come when called.

She seeps softly through the cracks while I brush my teeth at night.

When my limbs are heavy,
my eyelids droop,
and I cannot possibly write another word.”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“And somewhere deep inside my childhood
is another childhood
that belongs to someone else.

I find this very difficult to accept.

That I do not own time.
Or place,
or even feeling.

That nothing is as malleable as memory.”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“You can’t have your presence
and eat it

Unlike cake”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“Whenever I think
this life, these choices, this path
is mine alone
My spiritual, karmic, generational inheritance
swells in me
telling me
there is no such thing as

Tabula Rasa”
― Sarah Thompson, Murmurations

“Someday, I would like to go home. The exact location of this place, I don't know, but someday I would like to go. There would be a pleasing feeling of familiarity and a sense of welcome in everything I saw. People would greet me warmly. They would remind me of the length of my absence and the thousands of miles I had travelled in those restless years, but mostly, they would tell me that I had been missed, and that things were better now I had returned. Autumn would come to this place of welcome, this place I would know to be home. Autumn would come and the air would grow cool, dry and magic, as it does that time of the year. At night, I would walk the streets but not feel lonely, for these are the streets of my home town. These are the streets that I had thought about while far away, and now I was back, and all was as it should be. The trees and the falling leaves would welcome me. I would look up at the moon, and remember seeing it in countries all over the world as I had restlessly journeyed for decades, never remembering it looking the same as when viewed from my hometown.”
― Henry Rollins