Jinnie Stork

“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

“In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
― Jane Austen, Pride And Prejudice

“Kulan var alltid sval. Den blåa färgen var djupare och klarare än havet och målade om hela världen så att den blev kylig och avlägsen och främmande. I världens centrum såg han sig själv, sin egen stora nos, och runt omkring den speglade ett förvandlat och drömlikt landskap. Den blåa marken var långt nere och djupt in och därinne i det onåbara började pappan leta efter sin familj De kom alltid, bara han väntade. Glaskulan speglade dem alltid.”
― Tove Jansson, Moominpappa at Sea

“Jag är så rädd att få ett hjärta av sten, för jag tror att det skaver i bröstet och gör ont.”
― Astrid Lindgren, Mio, My Son