Alice > Alice's Quotes

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  • #1
    Ray Bradbury
    “I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry.

    Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on.”
    Ray Bradbury, Green Shadows, White Whale

  • #2
    Audrey Niffenegger
    “I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it. Why is love intensified by abscence?”
    Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife

  • #3
    Emilie Autumn
    “I am my heart’s undertaker. Daily I go and retrieve its tattered remains, place them delicately into its little coffin, and bury it in the depths of my memory, only to have to do it all again tomorrow.”
    Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

  • #4
    Søren Kierkegaard
    “What if everything in the world were a misunderstanding, what if laughter were really tears?”
    Soren Kierkegaard

  • #5
    Victor Hugo
    “Melancholy is the happiness of being sad.”
    Victor Hugo

  • #6
    Alejandra Pizarnik
    “Melancholia is, I believe, a musical problem: a dissonance, a change in rhythm. While on the outside everything happens with the vertiginous rhythm of a cataract, on the inside is the exhausted adagio of drops of water falling from time to tired time. For this reason the outside, seen from the melancholic inside, appears absurd and unreal, and constitutes ‘the farce we all must play’. But for an instant – because of a wild music, or a drug, or the sexual act carried to its climax – the very slow rhythm of the melancholic soul does not only rise to that of the outside world: it overtakes it with an ineffably blissful exorbitance, and the soul then thrills animated by delirious new energies”
    Alejandra Pizarnik

  • #7
    Hermann Hesse
    “I began to understand that suffering and disappointments and melancholy are there not to vex us or cheapen us or deprive us of our dignity but to mature and transfigure us.”
    Hermann Hesse, Peter Camenzind

  • #8
    J. Sheridan Le Fanu
    “For some nights I slept profoundly; but still every morning I felt the same lassitude, and a languor weighed upon me all day. I felt myself a changed girl. A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet. Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.”
    Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla

  • #9
    Federico García Lorca
    “A light which lives on what the flames devour,
    a grey landscape surrounding me with scorch,
    a crucifixion by a single wound,
    a sky and earth that darken by each hour,
    a sob of blood whose red ribbon adorns
    a lyre without a pulse, and oils the torch,
    a tide which stuns and strands me on the reef,
    a scorpion scrambling, stinging in my chest--
    this is the wreath of love, this bed of thorns
    is where I dream of you stealing my rest,
    haunting these sunken ribs cargoed with grief.
    I sought the peak of prudence, but I found
    the hemlock-brimming valley of your heart,
    and my own thirst for bitter truth and art.

    - Stigmata of Love
    Federico Garcia Lorca

  • #10
    J.L. Carr
    “And, at such a time, for a few of us there will always be a tugging at the heart—knowing a precious moment had gone and we not there. We can ask and ask but we can’t have again what once seemed ours for ever—the way things looked, that church alone in the fields, a bed on belfry floor, a remembered voice, a loved face. They’ve gone and you can only wait for the pain to pass. ”
    J.L. Carr, A Month in the Country

  • #11
    Tim Winton
    “It’s how I fill the time when nothing’s happening. Thinking too much, flirting with melancholy.”
    Tim Winton, Breath



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