“Don’t worry,” he would say, smiling. “Dying is much more difficult than one imagines.” — Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude. (Harper & Row, 1970)
He stared into the fast-flowing waters and contemplated the tragedy of desire. — Salman Rushdie, Shalimar the Clown (Random House, 2005)
Then he thought himself unhappy, but happiness was all in the future; now he felt that the best happiness was already in the past. ― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina. (Norilana Books February 16, 2008) Originally published 1873.
This is what I know about love, that it is tested every day, and what is not renewed is lost. One chooses either to care more or to care less. Once the choice is to care less, then there is no stopping the momentum of goodbye. Each loved thing slips away. There is no stopping… Continue reading Helen Humphreys
No deep and strong feeling, such as we may come across here and there in the world, is unmixed with compassion. The more we love, the more the object of our love seems to be a victim. ― Boris Pasternak, Doctor Zhivago. (Hallmark Editions; First Thus edition January 1, 1967) Originally published January 1st 1965.
Upset by two nostalgias facing each other like two mirrors, he lost his marvelous sense of unreality and he ended up recommending to all of them that they leave Macondo, that they forget everything he had taught them about the world and the human heart, that they shit on Horace, and that wherever they might… Continue reading Gabriel García Márquez
Yea, all things live forever, though at times they sleep and are forgotten. ― H. Rider Haggard, She. (Oxford University Press, October 22, 1998) Originally published 1887.