Shruthi Jothsana > Shruthi's Quotes

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  • #1
    Rohinton Mistry
    “The human face has limited space. If you fill it with laughter there will be no room for crying.”
    Rohinton Mistry, A Fine Balance

  • #2
    Enid Blyton
    “Leave something for someone but dont leave someone for something.”
    Enid Blyton, Five on a Hike Together

  • #3
    Charles Bukowski
    “Do you hate people?”

    “I don't hate them...I just feel better when they're not around.”
    Charles Bukowski, Barfly

  • #4
    Charles Bukowski
    “what matters most is how well you walk through the fire”
    Charles Bukowski

  • #5
    Charles Bukowski
    “Find what you love and let it kill you.”
    Charles Bukowski

  • #6
    Charles Bukowski
    “I loved you like a man loves a woman he never touches, only writes to, keeps little photographs of.”
    Charles Bukowski, Love Is a Dog from Hell

  • #7
    Charles Bukowski
    “being alone never felt right. sometimes it felt good, but it never felt right.”
    Charles Bukowski, Women

  • #8
    Charles Bukowski
    “I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.”
    Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness

  • #9
    Charles Bukowski
    “those who escape hell
    however
    never talk about
    it
    and nothing much
    bothers them
    after
    that.”
    Charles Bukowski

  • #10
    Amanda Lovelace
    “ah, life—
    the thing
    that happens
    to us
    while we’re off
    somewhere else
    blowing on
    dandelions
    & wishing
    ourselves into
    the pages of
    our favorite
    fairy tales.”
    Amanda Lovelace, The Princess Saves Herself in This One

  • #11
    Charles Bukowski
    “People are strange: They are constantly angered by trivial things, but on a major matter like totally wasting their lives, they hardly seem to notice.”
    Charles Bukowski

  • #12
    “I wish I wrote the way I thought
    Obsessively
    Incessantly
    With maddening hunger
    I’d write to the point of suffocation
    I’d write myself into nervous breakdowns
    Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing
    And I’d write about you
    a lot more
    than I should”
    Benedict Smith



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