The cost of oblivious daydreaming was always this moment of return, the realignment with what had been before and now seemed a little worse.
—Ian McEwan, Atonement
“Touch comes before sight, before speech. It is the first language and the last, and it always tells the truth.” - The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood
If we only fell in love with people who were perfect for us…then there wouldn’t be so much fuss about love in the first place.
—Amor Towles, Rules of Civility
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Greats Gatsby
It never occurred to me that our lives, until then so closely interwoven, could unravel and separate over a thing like that. But the fact was, I suppose, there were powerful tides tugging us apart by then, and it only needed something like that to finish the task. If we’d understood that back then-who knows?-maybe we’d have kept a tighter hold of one another.
—Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go
You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing,” and you’re terrified somebody’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it’s not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It’s wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.
—Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s
That was when Leonard realized something crucial about depression. The smarter you were, the worse it was. The sharper your brain, the more it cut you up.
—The Marriage Plot, Jeffrey Eugenides
What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.
—Suzanne Collins, Mockingjay
It never occurred to me that our lives, until then so closely interwoven, could unravel and separate over a thing like that. But the fact was, I suppose, there were powerful tides tugging us apart by then, and it only needed something like that to finish the task. If we’d understood that back then-who knows?-maybe we’d have kept a tighter hold of one another.
—Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go
