Herman Melville
We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects. ― Herman Melville
Category: Short Story Writer
Ernest Hemingway
Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will… Continue reading Ernest Hemingway
Franz Kafka
You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet. ― Franz Kafka
Kurt Vonnegut
Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why. ― Kurt Vonnegut
Ray Bradbury
I live in a well. I live like smoke in the well. Like vapor in a stone throat. I don’t move. I don’t do anything but wait. Overhead I see the cold stars of night and morning, and I see the sun. And sometimes I sing old songs of this world when it was young.… Continue reading Ray Bradbury
Rob Doyle
We are all deep in a hell, each moment of which is a miracle. — Rob Doyle, from “Winter in Paris.” The Dublin Review. No. 58 Summer 2015.
Luigi Pirandello
You know what you are for me. The torment of imagining you far away-among other people who can have the joy of seeing you, talking to you, being near you while I am here without life because I can neither see you nor talk with you, nor be near you-can be mitigated only by the… Continue reading Luigi Pirandello
Munia Khan
For a brokenhearted person memories are the vital parts of misery. ― Munia Khan
Fyodor Dostoyevsky
It’s in despair that you find the sharpest pleasures, particularly when you are most acutely aware of the hopelessness of your position. ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Fyodor Dostoevsky
There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words. Your thought, even a bad one, while it is with you, is always more profound, but in words it is more ridiculous and dishonorable. — Fyodor Dostoevsky
The Vale of Soul-Making 