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“But I knew that someday I was going to die. And just before I died two things would happen; Number 1: I would regret my entire life. Number 2: I would want to live my life over again.”
― Hubert Selby, Jr.

“I'll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like the trees in autumn with no leaves. A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore. I'll make a sound that's so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and to all who hear it in the distant towns. I'll make me a sound and an apparatus and they'll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life.”
― Ray Bradbury, A Sound of Thunder and Other Stories

“I ran up on the rocks, birds were already starting to chirp here and there and a faint red dawn was waking in the east. I was so happy that it hurt and I stretched my arms straight up and let my feet dance as they wanted to. […] I walked very slowly through the city with my coat on my arm. A slight wind had started to blow, a cool morning breeze. The town was absolutely deserted. I thought it amusing, what they say about how hard it is to be happy.”
― Tove Jansson

“I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath