A person doesn’t die when he should but when he can. — Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude. (Harper & Row, 1970) Advertisements
…the heart has no tears to give,—it drops only blood, bleeding itself away in silence. — Harriet Beecher Stowe, Uncle Tom’s Cabin. (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, June 22, 2015) Originally published March 20th 1852.
I’ve come home in love with loneliness. — L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea. (Laurel Leaf, July 1, 1984) Originally published 1909.
How nice — to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive. ― Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five. (Delacorte 1969)
Some days, I listen to that clock ticking in the hallway. Then I think of all the ticks, all the minutes, all the hours and days and weeks and months and years waiting for me. All of it without you. And I can’t breathe then, like someone’s stepping on my heart. I get so weak.… Continue reading Khaled Hosseini
Think of this – that the writer wrote alone, and the reader read alone, and they were alone with each other. ― A.S. Byatt, Possession, (Vintage, October 1, 1991)
I wish I could live underwater. Maybe then my skin would absorb the sea’s consoling silence. — Cristina García, Dreaming in Cuban. (Ballantine Books, June 8, 2011) Originally published 1992.