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| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| d185a5d | I am sorry because there will never be enough time, not even in a hundred years from this day would be enough time for us to love | Celeste De Blasis | ||
| 83f635f | Anyone could see it all coming and no one could possibly stop it and that was the beautiful thing. Friday night was open wide and writ in stone | Jonathan Lethem | ||
| 425dae8 | Don't rupture another's illusion unless you're positive the alternative you offer is more worthwhile than that from which you're wrenching them. Interrogate your solipsism: Does it offer any better a home than the delusions you're reaching to shatter? | Jonathan Lethem | ||
| 181b57a | She read modern fiction too. Always fiction. She hated to hear the word 'escape' used about fiction. She might have argued, not just playfully, that it was real life that was the escape. But this was too important to argue about. | Alice Munro | ||
| 934e1ae | As a matter of fact she does not know to this day if those words were spoken, or if he only caught her, wound his arms around her, held her so tightly, with such continual, changing pressures that it seemed more than two arms were needed, that she was surrounded by him, his body strong and light, demanding and renouncing all at once, as if he was telling her she was wrong to give up on him, everything was possible, but then again that she w.. | Alice Munro | ||
| 42edf95 | And at the end of his letter one terrible sentence. 'If I loved you I would have written differently. | Alice Munro | ||
| 4f0e570 | She keeps on hoping from a word from Penelope, but not in any strenuous way. She hopes as people who know better hope for undeserved blessings, spontaneous remissions, things of that sort. | Alice Munro | ||
| a765458 | Something happened here. In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, were something happened, and then there are all the other places | Alice Munro | ||
| a8cbfdf | The annoying thing about reading is that you can never get the job done. The other day I was in a bookstore flicking through a book called something like (and, without naming names, you should be aware that the task set by the title is by definition impossible, because at least four hundred of the books suggested would kill you anyway), but reading begets reading--that's sort of the point of it, surely?--and anybody who never deviates fro.. | Nick Hornby | ||
| af2bcab | She stopped typing. If she'd been using pen and paper, she would have screwed the paper up in disgust, but there wasn't a satisfying equivalent with email, seeing as everything was designed to stop you making a mistake. She needed a fuck-it key, something that made a satisfying ka-boom noise when you thumped it. | Nick Hornby | ||
| cd6e5ed | There are no buts, my son. True there are degrees of honor -- but one man can have only one code. Do what you like. It's your choice. Some things a man must decide for himself. Sometimes you have to adapt to circumstances. But for the love of God guard yourself and your conscience -- no one else will -- and know that a bad decision at the right time can destroy you far more surely than any bullet! | James Clavell | ||
| 4a1537a | There are people we treat wrong and later, we're prepared to treat other people right. | Curtis Sittenfeld | ||
| 00b8f24 | In bed that night I invented a special drain that would be underneath every pillow in New York, and would connect to the reservoir. Whenever people cried themselves to sleep, the tears would all go to the same place, and in the morning the weathermen could report if the water level of the Reservoir of Tears had gone up or down, and you could know if New York was in heavy boots. And when something really terrible happened - like a nuclear bo.. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| 183a425 | We believed in our grandmother's cooking more fervently than we believed in God. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| dffb8db | We are lying to ourselves and to each other. Lying about what? I don't care if we're lying. I am a bad person. I don't care. I don't care what you are. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| e29aecf | but I believe that things are extremely complicated, and her looking over me was as complicated as anything could ever be. But it was also incredibly simple. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| 76b78f4 | Touch had always saved them in the past. No matter the anger or hurt, no matter the depth of the aloneness, a touch, even a light and passing touch, reminded them of their long togetherness. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| c1a842e | and i wouldn't say no to something sweet. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| eae0577 | He spent the next weeks blocking scenes of the bureaucrat fucking his wife. On the floor with cooking ingredients. Standing, with socks still on. In the grass of the yard of their new and immense house. He imagined her making noises she never made for him and feeling pleasures he could never provide because the bureaucrat was a man, and he was not a man. he wondered. | humor marriage sex | Jonathan Safran Foer | |
| 54050d8 | It is as if after surviving so much, there was no longer reason to survive. | life survival survivor | Jonathan Safran Foer | |
| e477157 | Grandfather kicked the stop pedal, and my face gave a high-five to the front window. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| 4fd74b1 | Cruelty depends on an understanding of cruelty, and the ability to choose against it. Or to choose to ignore it. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| 85b79dd | You will remember when a bird crashed through the window and fell to the floor. You will remember, those of you who were there, how it jerked its wings before dying, and left a spot of blood on the floor after it was removed. But who among you was first to notice the negative bird it left in the window? Who first saw the shadow that the bird left behind, the shadow that drew blood from any finger that dared to trace it, the shadow that was .. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| a1a90b5 | I would have done anything for him. Maybe that was my sickness. We made love in nothing places and turned the lights off. It felt like crying. We could not look at each other. It always had to be from behind. Like that first time. And I knew he wasn't thinking of me. He squeezed my sides so hard, and pushed so hard. Like he was trying to push me through to somewhere else. Why does anyone ever make love? | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| d13dae4 | But I dig Negroes. I dig them all the way. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| e02b923 | I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me. | Jonathan Safran Foer | ||
| 1a75dab | He got right down in the dark between heartbeats, and rested there. And then he saw that another one wasn't going to come. That's it. That's the last. He looked at the dark. I would like to take this opportunity, he said, to pray for another human being. | Denis Johnson | ||
| c4b1dd5 | When we were arguing on my twenty-fourth birthday, she left the kitchen, came back with a pistol, and fired it at me five times from right across the table. But she missed. It wasn't my life she was after. It was more. She wanted to eat my heart and be lost in the desert with what she'd done, she wanted to fall on her knees and give birth from it, she wanted to hurt me as only a child can be hurt by its mother. | denis dirty jesus johnson son wedding | Denis Johnson | |
| c3e1cae | But soon I loved her completely and wished to possess her, own her, absorb her, eat her. I wanted her in my arms and in my bed, I longed she would open her legs to me | mysogyny possession sex | Ian McEwan | |
| 4eba9b8 | Down Here and up there are all the same to me. Whether I lie here in the gutter and stow away the rain water or drink champagne up there with the same lips makes no difference to me, not even in the taste. | Franz Kafka | ||
| 57172a2 | My writing was all about you; all I did there, after all, was to bemoan what I could not bemoan upon your breast. | Franz Kafka | ||
| a72b4f2 | I mustn't look at you too much, or I won't be able to take my eyes off you at all. | Franz Kafka | ||
| 12979be |
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علم-نفس فلسفة فلسفة-حياة friedrich-nietzche friedrich-nietzsche حب جنس اجتماع كائن-لا-تحتمل-خفته love milan-kundera ميلان-كونديرا neitzsche novel نيتشه philosophy philosophy-of-life political psychological psychology religion religion-and-philoshophy sex sociology | ميلان كونديرا | |
| 8c8765c |
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علم-نفس فلسفة فلسفة-حياة friedrich-nietzche friedrich-nietzsche حب جنس اجتماع كائن-لا-تحتمل-خفته love milan-kundera ميلان-كونديرا neitzsche novel نيتشه philosophy philosophy-of-life political psychological psychology religion religion-and-philoshophy sex sociology | ميلان كونديرا | |
| aae8e0e | And think about the precise meaning of that term: a Narcissus is not proud. A proud man has disdain for other people, he undervalues them. The Narcissus overvalues them, because in every person's eyes he sees his own image, and wants to embellish it. So he takes nice care of all his mirrors. | modernity narcissism | Milan Kundera | |
| 7cbc7d3 | The termites of reduction have always gnawed away at life: even the greatest love ends up as a skeleton of feeble memories. | love memories | Milan Kundera | |
| 2ebddc6 | A long time ago, man would listen in amazement to the sound of regular beats in his chest, never suspecting what they were. He was unable to identify himself with so alien and unfamiliar an object as the body. The body was a cage, and inside that cage was something which looked, listened, feared, thought, and marveled; that something, that remainder left over after the body had been accounted for, was the soul. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 6cdb8e3 | Cemeteries in Bohemia are like gardens. The graves are covered with grass and colourful flowers. Modest tombstones are lost in the greenery. When the sun goes down, the cemetery sparkles with tiny candles... no matter how brutal life becomes, peace always reigns in the cemetery. Even in wartime, even in Hitler's time, even in Stalin's time.. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 08c7c39 | lm ykn Srkhh lhthan wlm ykn t'wWhan, bl Srkh Hqyqy. knt tSrkh bSwt `lin l~ drj@ 'n twms 'b`d r'sh `n wjhh wk'n Swth lz`q sythqb Tbl@ 'dhnh. lm ykn hdh lSrkh t`byran `n lshbq flshbq hw lt`by'@ lqSw~ llHws: nrqb lakhr bntbh blG wnsm` 'dn~ 'Swth. lkn Srkh tyryz kn bkhlf dhlk, yryd 'n yurhq lHws wymn`h mn lrw'y@ wlsm`. knt lmthly@ lsdhj@ lHbWh hy lty tz`q fy dkhlh rGb@ fy lG kl ltnqDt, wfy lG thny'y@ lrwH wljsd, wHtW~ fy lG lzmn. | علم-نفس فلسفة فلسفة-حياة friedrich-nietzche friedrich-nietzsche حب جنس اجتماع كائن-لا-تحتمل-خفته love milan-kundera ميلان-كونديرا neitzsche novel نيتشه philosophy philosophy-of-life political psychological psychology religion religion-and-philoshophy sex sociology | ميلان كونديرا | |
| 7bba2c6 | I'd say that the quantity of boredom, if boredom is measurable, is much greater today than it once was. Because the old occupations, at least most of them, were unthinkable without a passionate involvement: the peasants in love with their land; my grandfather, the magician of beautiful tables; the shoemakers who knew every villager's feet by heart; the woodsmen; the gardeners; probably even the soldiers killed with passion back then. The me.. | Milan Kundera | ||
| 066a6c4 | lshfq@ h~ l`n@ tbdl l`wTf mn shkhS lakhr.. | Milan Kundera | ||
| bf2f813 | I beg you friend, be happy. I have the vague sense that on your capacity to be happy hangs our only hope. | Milan Kundera | ||
| e7f8327 | She regarded books as the emblems of secret brotherhood. A man with this sort of library couldn't possibly hurt her. | Milan Kundera | ||
| b3508b7 | Remembering now all those farewells (fake farewells, worked-up farewells), Irena thinks: a person who messes up her goodbyes shouldn't expect much from her re-unions. | Milan Kundera |