Youth is wasted on the young. ― George Bernard Shaw Advertisements
If you don’t know where you are currently standing, you’re dead. ― Samuel Beckett, Happy Days. (Faber & Faber; New Impression edition, 1987) Originally published 1960.
The old summer’s-end melancholy nips at my heels. There’s no school to go back to; no detail of my life will change come the onset of September; yet still, I feel the old trepidation. ― Sara Baume, A Line Made by Walking. (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt; First American Edition edition, April 18, 2017)
There’s no lack of void. — Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot. . (Grove Press; 1 edition, May 17, 2011) Originally published 1952. Premiered 5 January 1953 at theThéâtre de Babylone, Paris France.
I THOUGHT of your beauty, and this arrow, Made out of a wild thought, is in my marrow. There’s no man may look upon her, no man, As when newly grown to be a woman, Tall and noble but with face and bosom Delicate in colour as apple blossom. This beauty’s kinder, yet for a… Continue reading W. B. Yeats
Where do they come from, thoughts? Like wrens, out of the sky. They arrive. Noisy, hungry, perfectly themselves. — Peter Behrens, from The Law of Dreams (Canongate Books, 2007)
He wanted to cry quietly but not for himself: for the words, so beautiful and sad, like music. ― James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. (Penguin Classics; 1 edition, March 25, 2003) Originally published December 29th 1916.