He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights
Tag: self
Inside us there is something that has no name, that something is what we are.
Jose Saramago, Blindness (via quoted-books)
The keenest sorrow is to recognize ourselves as the sole cause of all our adversities.
Sophocles
I saw all the mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me.
Jorge Luis Borges (via aestheticintrovert)
You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.
Oscar Wilde
She hated the namelessness of women in stories, as if they lived and died so that men could have metaphysical insights.
Chad Harbach, The Art of Fielding (via glittergheist)
How easy it was to lie to strangers, to create with strangers the versions of our lives we imagined.
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, Americanah
She seems so cool, so focused, so quiet, yet her eyes remain fixed upon the horizon. You think you know all there is to know about her immediately upon meeting her, but everything you think you know is wrong. Passion flows through her like a river of blood. She only looked away for a moment, and the mask slipped, and you fell. All your tomorrows start here.
Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things: Short Fictions and Wonders
secretive dreams 