- why do you weep? did you think i was immortal? — louis xiv's last words
- 찬란한 오후의 햇살은 나를 보며 나지막이 얘기해 "나는 너와 어울리질 않아 너와 난 어울릴 수 가 없어" (the blinding sunshine of the afternoon looks at me and tells me quietly "you and i don't go well together, you and i can't be together") — 넬, 오후와의 대화 (a conversation with the afternoon)
- 자살과 자유는 고작 한 글자 차이 (suicide (자살) and freedom (자유) are one letter apart) — 넬, 51분전 (51 minutes ago)
- 평행. 그저 바라볼 뿐 끝내 서로 닿지는 않을 우리의 마음. 끝내 서로 닿을 수 없는 우리의 마음. (parallel. just looking, but never touching, our hearts. our hearts that will ultimately never touch.) — 넬, 어떻게 생각해 (what do you think)
- no, i’m not ok. but i haven’t been ok since i was 11, maybe 12. i am still here though. i’m still breathing. for me, sometimes, that will have to be enough. — clementine von radics
- tonight i can write the saddest lines. i loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. — pablo neruda
- sometimes i get up early and even my soul is wet. far away the sea sounds and resounds. this is a port. here i love you. here i love you and the horizon hides you in vain. — pablo neruda
- i know a few things about ghosts. the only way to stop them getting inside you is to spend every second of the day thinking about something else. fighting like that makes you tired, and it doesn't matter how hard you fight anyway. they chip till they make a crack, and before you know it there's a ghost squatter in your living room. it's hard to get them out. hard because they settle in. hard because you like the company. — cath crowley
- we pull our boots on with both hands but we can’t punch ourselves awake and all i can do is stand on the curb and say sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine. i couldn’t get the boy to kill me, but i wore his jacket for the longest time. — richard siken
- you’re sad because you’re sad. it’s psychic. it’s the age. it’s chemical. — margaret atwood
- i sit before flowers hoping they will train me in the art of opening up. — shane koyczan
- there are 6 states pressed like stubborn flowers between the last time i kissed you and today, but you still feel like a sound caught in my throat. — sierra demulder
- i said to the sun, ‘tell me about the big bang.’ the sun said, 'it hurts to become.' — andrea gibson
- i get out of bed, go over to the window, and look at the night sky. and think about time that can never be regained. i think of rivers, of tides. forests and water gushing out. rain and lightning. rocks and shadows. all of these are in me. — haruki murakami
- i could see the veins through your skin like a map to inside you. — francesca lia block
- you are so brave and quiet i forget you are suffering. — ernest hemingway
- the gods envy us. they envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. you will never be lovelier than you are now. we will never be here again. — the illiad
- tell me you need me. please. you are the bones of my spine. you are the ground beneath my feet. you are made of deeper stuff than the earth can give. admit it: you are lost without the waiting. — letter from hades to persephone, clementine von radics
- how do you get so empty? who takes it out of you? — ray bradbury
- i used to build dreams about you. — f. scott fitzgerald
- sleep heavily and know that i am here with you now. the past is gone, and cannot harm you anymore. and while the future is fast coming for you, it always flinches first, and settles in as the gentle present. this now, this us, we can cope with that. we can do this together, you and i, drowsily, but comfortably. — cecil, welcome to nightvale
- i drank to drown my sorrows, but the damned things learned how to swim. — frida kahlo
- i love you and i always will and i am sorry. what a useless word. — ernest hemingway
- yesterday, i ate a pomegranate with my bare hands. one of the seeds had a perfect puncture wound, spitting red juice up my arm. for a moment, i could understand the grace in monsters. — benjamin clime
- if you read our story backwards, it’s about how i un-broke your heart and then we were happy until one day you forgot about me forever. — the tiny book of tiny stories
jan 20 2014 ∞
mar 28 2014 +