You can be lonely anywhere, but there is a particular flavour to the loneliness that comes from living in a city, surrounded by millions of people. ― Olivia Laing, The Lonely City: Adventures in the Art of Being Alone. (Picador, 2016)
When I am happy it is so rare. I need to dwell on it, to contemplate it. What a hunger, a craving for beautiful things. — Anaïs Nin, Nearer the Moon: The Previously Unpublished Unexpurgated Diary, 1937-1939. (Harcourt; 1st edition, November 1996)
I am always between two worlds, always in conflict. I would like sometimes to rest, to be at peace, to choose a nook, make a final choice, but I can’t. Some nameless, undescribable fear and anxiety keeps me on the move. On certain evenings like this, I would like to feel whole. Only a half… Continue reading Anaïs Nin
…I have a feeling of being at home when I am with Sien, a feeling that she gives me my own hearth, that our lives are interwoven. This is a heartfelt, deep feeling, serious, and not without a dark shadow of her gloomy past and mine, as if some evil threatened us, against which we… Continue reading Vincent van Gogh
I am not well; I could have built the Pyramids with the effort it takes me to cling on to life and reason. — Franz Kafka, Letters To Felice. ( Schocken; Pbk ed. edition December 6, 2016) Originally published 1967.
Writing. It is like no other light. A very clear and hollow light. — Ernest Hemingway, from a letter to Bernard Berenson, Selected Letters: 1917-1961 (Scribner, 2003)
I am proud of my heart alone, it is the sole source of everything, all our strength, happiness and misery. All the knowledge I possess everyone else can acquire, but my heart is all my own. ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther. (Modern Library; Reprint edition, February 8, 2005) Originally published… Continue reading Johann Wolfgang von Goethe