I like trains. I like their rhythm, and I like the freedom of being suspended between two places, all anxieties of purpose taken care of: for this moment I know where I am going. ― Anna Funder, Stasiland: Stories from Behind the Berlin Wall, (Harper Perennial; Reprint edition September 20, 2011)
If you had really loved something, wouldn’t a little bit of it always linger? — Susan Orlean, The Orchid Thief (Random House, 1998)
There are only three things to be done with a woman. You can love her, suffer for her, or turn her into literature. ― Lawrence Durrell, Justine. (Penguin; Reprint edition, July 12, 1991) Originally published 1957.
Overhead the birds are calling, their cries seeming to fill the air. As I watch, they rise, flinging their bodies against the sky, intent upon the moment, spinning and turning like embers or smoke upon the air. I envy them, this life of theirs, the way they live so free of themselves, they are without… Continue reading James Bradley
Perhaps — I want the old days back again and they’ll never come back, and I am haunted by the memory of them and of the world falling about my ears. — Margaret Mitchell, Gone With The Wind. (Grand Central Publishing; Reprint edition April 1, 1999) Originally published 1936.
Presume not that I am the thing I was. — William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part 2. Act V Scene v
Nothing lives long Only the earth and mountains — Dee Brown, Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee: An Indian History of the American West. (Holt Paperbacks; 30th Anniversary edition January 23, 2001) Originally published 1970.