"all of me
breathes you in […]"
"I notice that Autumn is more the season of the soul than of nature."
"Ignoring your passion is slow suicide. Never ignore what your heart pumps for. Mold your career around your lifestyle not your lifestyle around your career."
"Am I in love? —yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits."
"A woman is not written in braille, you don’t have to touch her to know her."
"There is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for."
"Remember that the world will never hear you if you choose to say nothing."
Today in my poetry class, my Prof who basically is Dumbledore told us that imagination allows us to overcome our limitations; that it is the ability to create that sets humans apart from all other animals. He said reality is what our individual mind perceives as true, and that by freeing our mind, we can defy materialistic daily life and create instead a world driven by a greater sense of being alive. I think I am going to like this class.
"We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and our unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep. It’s as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out windows, or drown themselves, or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us are slowly devoured by some disease, or, if we’re very fortunate, by time itself. There’s just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we’ve ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more than anything, for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so…"