The resting place of my soul is a beautiful grove where my knowledge of you lives. ― Kahlil Gibran, Beloved Prophet: The Love Letters of Kahlil Gibran and Mary Haskell, and Her Private Journal. (Knopf; 1st edition, February 12, 1972) Advertisements
We have to become as simple and as wordless as the growing corn or the falling rain. We must just be. — Etty Hillesum, An Interrupted Life: The Diaries, 1941-1943; and Letters from Westerbork. (Picador; unknown edition, November 15, 1996)
I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past. ― Virginia Woolf, The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Three: 1925-1930. (Mariner Books; First edition, September 14, 1981)
(where do they hide the young, tender years?) — Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. (Anchor; Unabridged edition October 17, 2000)
We don’t forget, but something vacant settles in us. — Roland Barthes, Mourning Diary. (Hill and Wang; First Edition edition, October 12, 2010)
What am I here for? To listen to my soul. — Marina Tsvetaeva, Earthly Signs: Moscow Diaries, 1917 – 1922. (Yale University Press, 2002)
A continued succession of unpleasant, Novembery days, and autumn has made rapid progress in the work of decay. – Nathaniel Hawthorne, The American Notebooks. (Ohio State University Press; Centennial edition, January 28, 2017) Originally published 1932.