“Adieu,” he said, “this is goodbye. I’ll never forget you, never.” She stood silent. He looked at her and saw her eyes full of tears. He turned away. At this moment she wasn’t ashamed of loving him, because her physical desire had gone and all she felt towards him now was pity and a profound, almost maternal tenderness. She forced herself to smile. “Like the Chinese mother who sent her son off to war telling him to be careful ‘because war has its dangers,’ I’m asking you, if you...
The words that make sense… brilliant writings by writers…
“The more conscious I was of goodness and of all that was ‘sublime and beautiful’, the more deeply I sank into my mire and the more ready I was to sink in it altogether.” Fyodor Dostoevsky b. 1821 (Russia), d.1881
“I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room — I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful — awful beyond all — but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me…or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude. It’s being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might...
“Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. “ ~Victor Hugo
“I don’t die – I don’t fall in love. And if other people die or fall in love they always do it when I’m not there. You are quite right; life to me is just a spectacle…” E.M. Forster (1879-1905)
“The important thing is that man is lost in time, in the moment that immediately precedes him – which only attests, by reflection, to the fact that he is lost in the moment that follows” Andre Breton André Breton was a French writer and poet. He is known best as the founder of Surrealism. Photo by Man Ray (1930)
“Is an intelligent human being likely to be much more than a large-scale manufacturer of misunderstanding?” Philip Roth
My own brain is to me the most unaccountable of machinery – always buzzing, humming, soaring roaring diving, and then buried in mud. And why? What’s this passion for? Virginia Woolf
For all that has been said of the love that certain natures (on shore) have professed for it, for all the celebrations it has been the object of in prose and song, the sea has never been friendly to man. At most it has been the accomplice of human restlessness. Joseph Conrad (1857 – 1924)
Don’t you know that every perfect life would mean the end of art? Robert Musil (1880 – 1942)