Graham Greene
A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. — Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (Heinemann, 1951)
A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead. — Graham Greene, The End of the Affair (Heinemann, 1951)
I’m saying that I’m a moody, insecure, narrow-minded, jealous, borderline homicidal bitch, and I want you to promise me that you’re okay with that, because it’s who I am, and you’re what I need. ― Jeaniene Frost, Halfway to the Grave (Avon; 1st Printing edition, October 30, 2007)
I look at you, and I just love you, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you. — Alexandra Bracken, Never Fade ( Hyperion Book CH; First Edition, November 5, 2013)
Sometimes it is harder to deprive oneself of a pain than of a pleasure. — F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night, ( Scribner; Reissue edition, July 1, 1995) Orginally published April 12th 1934.
…my Lolita remarked: “You know, what’s so dreadful about dying is that you are completely on your own”; and it struck me, as my automaton knees went up and down, that I simply did not know a thing about my darling’s mind and that quite possibly, behind the awful juvenile cliches, there was in her… Continue reading Vladimir Nabokov
this thing that made me crazy; the way he cupped his fingers around the back of my neck, putting them just so that his thumb touched a pulse point. It’s so hard to explain, but it gave me a chill every time, almost like he was touching my heart. — Sarah Dessen, This Lullaby. (Viking… Continue reading Sarah Dessen
To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else’s heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone… Continue reading Gabriel García Márquez
When I have not rage or sorrow, and you depart from me, then I am most afraid. When the belly is full, and the mind has its sayings, then I fear for my soul; I rush to you as a child at night breaks into its parents’ room. Do not forget me in my satisfaction.… Continue reading Leonard Cohen
And nobody felt sad as long as we could postpone tomorrow with more nostalgia. — Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower. (MTV Books; Later Printing edition February 1, 1999)
What is more dangerous than to become a poet? which is, as some say, an incurable and infectious disease. — Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote. Published by Francisco de Robles 1605 (Part One), 1615 (Part Two). Published in English 1612 (Part One), 1620 (Part Two).