quotation – Page 25 – secretive dreams

Every generation has a modern media mythology that serves as a framework for entertaining as well as educating about ethics, morality, issues of race, gender, class, and so on. For the past several years, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings have served in that role for tens of millions… [yet w]e have a generation coming of age with these characters and this completely mapped-out universe. It could be argued that it’s never been done better. But no matter what your age, there is always a fantasy/sci-fi/superhero realm that helps you to explore your place in the world, your identity, and your ideals. The Marvel Cinematic Universe is that realm for this generation.

Arnold T. Blumberg

Mistakes are like the memories you hide in an attic: old love letters from relationships that tanked, photos of dead relatives, toys from a childhood you miss. Out of sight is out of mind, but somewhere deep inside you know they still exist. And you also know that you’re avoiding them.

Jodi Picoult, Lone Wolf (via simply-quotes)

Well, you never knew exactly how much space you occupied in people’s lives.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night

Wasn’t that the definition of home? Not where you are from, but where you are wanted.

Abraham Verghese, Cutting for Stone (via aestheticintrovert)

He felt a touch of sadness now that it had happened, now that he knew what it was like. Not because it wasn’t enjoyable, or wouldn’t be repeated, but because one more of life’s mysteries had been revealed.

Chad Harbach, The Art of Fielding

It was strange the way he loved her; a sidelong and almost casual love, as if loving her were simply a matter of course, too natural to mention.

Chad Harbach, The Art of Fielding (via quoted-books)

In order to be irreplaceable, one must always be different.

Coco Chanel

aseaofquotes:

Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

It frightened him to think what must have gone to the making of her eyes.

Edith Wharton, The Age of Innocence

I am afraid. I am not solid, but hollow. I feel behind my eyes a numb, paralyzed cavern, a pit of hell, a mimicking nothingness. I never thought, I never wrote, I never suffered. I want to kill myself, to escape from responsibility, to crawl back abjectly into the womb. I do not know who I am, where I am going – and I am the one who has to decide the answers to these hideous questions.

Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath