quotation – Page 35 – secretive dreams

The keenest sorrow is to recognize ourselves as the sole cause of all our adversities.

Sophocles

I never want to love someone like that, so much that there would be no room left for myself, so much that I wouldn’t be able to survive if he left me.

Jean Kwok, Girl in Translation (via aestheticintrovert)

I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.

Beryl Markham, West with the Night (via quoted-books)

aseaofquotes:

Salman Rushdie, “At the Auction of the Ruby Slippers”

I’ve found out why people laugh. They laugh because it hurts so much … because it’s the only thing that’ll make it stop hurting.

Robert A. Heinlein, Stranger in a Strange Land (via quoted-books)

We never stop loving silently those we once loved out loud.

Marina Abramović (via parkavenuearmory)

Do you know how many nights I’ve spent twisting your English off my tongue? I do not take pride in your English. I want to stumble on my words. I want to speak with an accent so thick that it requires silence. I want you to struggle to understand me. Realize your English is not superior. Your English does not equate intelligence. Do not compliment me on how well I have accepted colonization. I do not want your pat on the back. I was forced to learn this language. I didn’t choose to. Your English disconnects me from my people. I am deaf to my own sacred language because of your English.
Your English has done nothing for me.

Excerpt from “You Speak Good English” by Bilphena Yahwon (via planetfaraway)

No. Take the heart first. Then you don’t feel the cold so much. The pain so much. With the heart gone, there’s no reason to stay your hand. Your eyes can look on death and not tremble. It’s the heart that betrays us, makes us weep, makes us bury our friends when we should be marching ahead. It’s the heart that sickens us at night and makes us hate who we are. It’s the heart that sings old songs and brings memories of warm days.

Jeanette Winterson, The Passion (via quoted-books)

Not everything worth keeping has to be useful.

Cynthia Lord, Rules (via quoted-books)