Markus Zusak
If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter. ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief (Knopf Books for Young Readers; First edition March 14, 2006)
Category: Holocaust
Kurt Vonnegut
And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep. — Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five. (Delacorte 1969)
Kurt Vonnegut
And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep. — Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five. (Delacorte 1969)
Jonathan Safran Foer
If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it walls, and we will furnish it with soft, red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweller’s felt so that we should never hear it.… Continue reading Jonathan Safran Foer
Primo Levi
I will tell just one more story, the most secret, and I will tell it with the humility and restraint of him who knows from the start that his theme is desperate, his means feeble, and the trade of clothing facts in words is bound by its very nature to fail. It is again among… Continue reading Primo Levi
Jonathan Safran Foer
From space, astronauts can see people making love as a tiny speck of light. Not light, exactly, but a glow that could be mistaken for light–a coital radiance that takes generations to pour like honey through the darkness to the astronaut’s eyes. In about one and a half centuries–after the lovers who made the glow… Continue reading Jonathan Safran Foer
Jonathan Safran Foer
I am always sad, I think. Perhaps this signifies that I am not sad at all, because sadness is something lower than your normal disposition, and I am always the same thing. Perhaps I am the only person in the world, then, who never becomes sad. Perhaps I am lucky. — Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything… Continue reading Jonathan Safran Foer
Markus Zusak
If your eyes could speak, what would they say? — Markus Zusak, The Book Thief. (Knopf Books for Young Readers; First edition March 14, 2006)
W.G. Sebald
I think how little we can hold in mind, how everything is constantly lapsing into oblivion with every extinguished life, how the world is, as it were, draining itself, in that the history of countless places and objects which themselves have no power of memory is never heard, never described or passed on. — W.G.… Continue reading W.G. Sebald
Kurt Vonnegut
And Lot’s wife, of course, was told not to look back where all those people and their homes had been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human. So she was turned into a pillar of salt. So it goes. People aren’t supposed to look back. I’m… Continue reading Kurt Vonnegut
The Vale of Soul-Making 