"There are times when I’m alone that I think. This is it. This is actually the natural state. All I need are my thoughts and my small acts of creation and my ability to go or do whatever I want to go or do. I am myself, and that is the point. Pairing is a social construction. It is by no means necessary for everyone to do it. Maybe I’m better like this. Maybe I could live my life in my own world, and then simply leave it when it’s time to go." David Levithan

"I'll always need to chase after you." Rumi

"She is better, she is safer, if she rests in Richmond; if she does not speak too much, write too much, feel to much; if she does not travel impetuosly to London and walk through its streets; and yet she is dying this way, she is gently dying on a bed of roses." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"As she rubs Louis's back, Clarissa thinks, Take me with you. I want a doomed love. I want streets at night, wind and rain, no one wondering where I am." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"On the steps of Hogarth House, she pauses to remember herself. She has learned over the years that sanity involves a certain measure of impersonation, not simply for the benefit of husband and servants but for the sake, first and foremost, of one's own convictions. She is the author; Leonard, Nelly, Ralph and the others are the readers. This particular novel concerns a serene, intelligent woman of painfully susceptible sensibilities who once was ill but has now recovered; who is preparing for the season in London, where she will give and attend parties, write in the mornings and read in the afternoons, lunch with friends, dress perfectly." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"Richard, alone among Clarissa's acquaintance, has no essential interest in famous people. Richard genuinely does not recognize such distinctions. It is, Clarissa thinks, some combination of monumental ego and a kind of savantism. Richard cannot imagine a life more interesting or worthwhile than those being lived by his acquaintances and himself, and for that reason one often feels exalted, expanded, in his presence. He is not one of those egotists who miniaturize others. He is the opposite kind of egotist, driven by grandiosity rather than greed, and he insists on a version of you that is funnier, stranger, more eccentric and profound than you suspect yourself to be - capable of doing more good and more harm in the world than you've ever imagined - it is all but impossible not to believe, at least in his presence and for a while after you've left him, that he alone sees through to your essence, weighs your true qualities (not all of which are necessarily flattering - a certain clumsy, childish rudeness is part of his style), and appreciates you more fully than anyone else ever has. It is only after knowing him for some time that you begin to realize you are, to him, and essentially fictional character, one he hwas invested with nearly limitless capacities for tragedy and comedy not because that is your true nature but because he, Richard, needs to live in a world peopled by extreme and commanding figures. Some have ended their relations with him rather than continue as figures in the epic poem he is always composing inside his head, the story of his life and passions; but others (Clarissa among them) enjoy the sense of hyperbole he brings to their lives, have come even to depend it, the way they depend on coffee to wake them up in the mornings and a drink or two to send them off at night." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"She, Laura, likes to imagine (it's one of her most closely held secrets) that she has a touch of brilliance herself, just a hint of it, though she knows most people probably walk around with simila hopeful suspicions curled up like tiny fists inside them, never divulged. She wonders, while she pushes a cart through the supermarket or has her hair done, if the other women aren't all thinking, to some degree or other, the same thing: Here is the brilliant spirit, the woman of sorrows, the woman of transcendent joys, who would rather be elsewhere, who has consented to perform simple and essentially foolish tasks, to examine tomatoes, to sit under a hair dryer, because it is her art and her duty." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"In another world, she might have spent her whole life reading. But this is the new world, the rescued world - there's not much room for idleness. So much has been risked and lost; so many have died. Less than five years ago Dan himself was believed to have died, at Anzio, and when he was revealed two days later to be alive after all (he and some poor boy from Arcadia had had the same name), it seemed he had ben ressurrected. He seemed to have returned, still sweet-tempered, still smelling like himself, from the realm of the dead (the stories you heard then about Italy, about Saipan and Okinawa, about Japanese mothers who killed their children and themselves rather than be taken prisoner), and when he came back to California he was received as something more than an ordinary hero. He could (in the words of his own alarmed mother) have had anyone, any pageant winner, any vivacious and compliant girl, but through some obscure and possibly perverse genius had kissed, courted, and proposed to his best friend's older sister, the bookworm, the foreign-looking one with the dark, closet eyes and the Roman nose, who had never been sought after or cherished; who had always been left alone, to read. What could she said but yes? How could she deny a handsome, good-hearted boy, practially a member of the family, who had come back from the dead? So now she is Laura Brown. Laura Zielski, the solitary girl, the incessant reader, is gone, and here in her place is Laura Brown." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"When she opened her eyes a few minutes ago (after seven already!) - when she still half inhabited her dream, some sort of pulsating machinery in the remote distance, a steady pounding like a gigantic mechanical heart, which seemed to be drawing nearer - she felt the dank sensation around her, the nowhere feeling, and knew it was going to be a difficult day. She knew she was going to have trouble believing in herself, in the rooms of her house, and when she glanced over at this new book on her nightstand, stacked atop the one she finished last night, she reached for it automatically, as if reading were the singular and obvious first task of the day, the only viable way to negotiate the transit from asleep to obligation." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"She loves the world for being rude and indestructible, and she knows other people must love it too, poor as well as rich, though no one speaks specifically of the reasons. Why else do we struggle to go on living, no matter how compromised, no matter how harmed? Even if we're further gone than Richard; even if we're fleshless, blazing with lesions, shitting in the streets; still, we want desperately to live. It has to do with all this, she thinks. Wheels buzzing on concrete, the roil and shock of it; sheets of bright spray blowing and vendors (from Peru, from Guatemala) send pungent, meaty smoke up from their quilted silver carts; old men and women straining after the sun from their benches, speaking softly to each other, shaking their heads; the bleat of car horns and the strum of guitars (that ragged group over there, three boys and a girl, could they possibly be playing "Eigh Miles High"?); leaves shimmering on the trees; a spotted dog chasing pigeons and passing radio playing "Always love you" as the woman in the dark dress stands under the arch singing iiiii." Michael Cunningham, The Hours

"When you tell me to come, I will come, by the next train, just as I am." Edna St. Vincent

"I would like to beg of you dear friend, as well as I can, to have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms, like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. You need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day." Rainer Maria Rilke

"O segredo de uma boa velhice não é outra coisa senão um pacto honrado com a solidão." Gabriel García Márquez

"If you do not understand a man you cannot crush him. And if you do understand him, very probably you will not." G.K. Chesterton

"There's no hell more harsh than a memory." Michael Larsen

"Pensou: ninguém sabe como é realmente bom este perfume. Ninguém sabe como é bem feito. Os outros só se submetem ao seu efeito, sim, nem sequer sabem que se trata de um perfume o que sobre eles atua e fascina. O único que alguma vez o reconheceu em sua verdadeira beleza fui eu, porque eu mesmo o fiz. E ao mesmo tempo sou o único a quem ele não pode fascinar, não pode deixar fora de si. Sou o único para quem não tem sentido." Patrick Süskind, Perfume

"De fato, a menina era de estranha beleza. Pertencia àquele tipo de mulheres plácidas, feitas de mel escuro, suaves e doces, que com um gesto, um menear de cabelos, um único e suave olhar, dominam um ambiente, permanecendo quietas como no centro de um redemoinho, aparentemente inconscientes da sua própria força de atração, com a qual arrastam irresistivelmente as almas e os suspiros, tanto de homens quanto de mulheres." Patrick Süskind, Perfume

"Deep in her soul, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like a sailor in distress, she would gaze out over the solitude of her life with desperate eyes, seeking some white sail in the mists of the far-off horizon. She did not know what this chance event would be, what wind would drive it to her, what shore it would carry her to, whether it was a longboat or a three-decked vessel, loaded with anguish or filled with happiness up to the portholes. But each morning, when she awoke, she hoped it would arrive that day." Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

"There are no promises. Look deeply at joy and sorrow, at laughing and crying, at hoping and fearing, at all that lives and dies. What truly heals is gratitude and tenderness." Pema Chodron

"The only way we will survive is by being kind. The only way we can get by in this world is through the help we receive from others. No one can do it alone." Amy Poehler, Yes Please

"I wondered if I was just doing this as some kind of ego trip. Then I decided I didn't care. [...] There are so many people in the world with so little. Who cares why you decide to help?" Amy Poehler, Yes Please

"Watching great people do what you love is a good way to start learning to do it yourself." Amy Poehler, Amy Poehler, Yes Please

"Just because your pain is understandable, doesn't mean your behavior is acceptable." Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

"I am so sorry to all the people I hurt while I was hurting."

"Love is a mistery and, when the solution is found, it evaporates." Zoë Heller, What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal

"...what is romance, but a mutual pact of delusion? When the pact ends , there's nothing left." Zoë Heller, What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal

"Things that are truly innocent don’t need to be labelled as such." Zoë Heller, What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal

"Everyone is anxious. What counts, surely, is what you do with your anxiety." Zoë Heller, What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal

"Sheba has often told me that she thinks there's a rhythm to married life, an ebb and flow in the pleasure that a couple take in one another. The rhythm varies from couple to couple, she says. For some couples, the seesaw of affections takes place over a week. For others, the cycle is lunar. But all couples sense this about their life together - the way in which their interest in one another builds up and recedes. The happiest couples are the ones whose cycles interact in such a way that when one of them is feeling jaded, the other is ardent, and there is never a vacuum." Zoë Heller, What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal

"Lonely people are terrible snobs about one another, I've found. They're afraid that consorting with their own kind will compound their freakishness." Zoë Heller, What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal

"Elegance loses its power in the presence of the properly stupid." Zoë Heller, What Was She Thinking?: Notes on a Scandal

“For myself I am too heavy, and for you too light.” Franz Kafka

"O que você precisa saber é que Marla ainda está viva. Sua filosofia de vida, ela me disse, é que ela pode morrer a qualquer momento. A tragédia da sua vida é que não morre." Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

"A vida não fazia sentido porque não havia nada com que compará-la. Ah, mas agora havia a morte, a perda, a tristeza. Lágrimas, horror e remorso. Agora que sabe para onde vamos todos Marla vive cada momento de sua vida." Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

"All this once seemed to her so comforting. And probably still would, if she had time to look at it from the outside. People may envy her, or at least admire her - thinking she matched him so well, with all her friends and duties and activities and of course her own career as well. You would never look at her now and think that when she had first come down to Vancouver she was so lonely she had agreed to go out with the boy from the dry cleaner who was a decade too young for her." (Alice Munro, Too Much Happiness: Fiction)

"Os que não constroem precisam queimar." (Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451)

"Dizem que sou antissocial. Não me misturo. É tão estranho. Na verdade, eu sou muito social. Tudo depende do que você entende por social, não é? Social para mim significa conversar com você sobre coisas como esta. - Ela chocalhou algumas castanhas que haviam caído da árvore do jardim da frente. - Ou falar sobre quanto o mundo é estranho. É agradável estar com as pessoas. Mas não vejo o que há de social em juntar um grupo de pessoas e depois não deixá-las falar, você não acha?" (Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451)

"Lembrou-se de ter pensado naquela hora que, se ela morresse, decerto ele não choraria. Pois seria a morte de uma desconhecida, um rosto da rua, uma foto do jornal e, de repente, a ideia lhe fora tão forte que ele começara a chorar, não pela morte, mas pela ideia de pensar em não chorar diante da morte, um homem ridículo e vazio junto de uma mulher ridícula e vazia." (Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451)

"And like the sea, I’m constantly changing from calm to hell." (Dallas Green)

"Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift." (Mary Oliver)

"People are not lazy. They simply have impotent goals — that is, goals that do not inspire them." (Anthony Robbins)

"Easy reading is damn hard writing." (Nathaniel Hawthorne) x

"Para quem leu um pouco e pensou bastante nas noites de insônia, é relativamente fácil dizer qualquer coisa que pareça profunda." (Clarice Lispector, A Bela a Fera - História Interrompida)

"Tornara-se bem livre... Mas isso não significava estar contente." (Clarice Lispector, A Bela e a Fera - Gertrudes Pede um Conselho)

"A beleza de descobrir a vida é pequena para quem procura principalmente a beleza nas coisas." (Clarice Lispector, A Bela e a Fera - Gertrudes Pede um Conselho)

"Fora de minha órbita, longe das coisas como que nascidas comigo, senti-me sem apoio porque afinal nem as noções recebidas haviam criado raízes em mim, tão superficialmente eu vivia. O que até então me sustentara não eram convicções, mas as pessoas que as possuiam." (Clarice Lispector, A Bela e a Fera - Obsessão)

"Tudo perdôo aos que não sabem se prender, aos que fazem perguntas. Aos que procuram motivos para viver, como se a vida por si mesma não se justificasse." (Clarice Lispector, A Bela e a Fera - Obsessão)

"Pouco sei sobre o amor. Apenas lembro-me que o temia e o procurava." (Clarice Lispector, A Bela e a Fera - Obsessão)

"Other people are not medicine." (Amy Poehler)

"Tinha ido descobrindo aos poucos a insegurança dos passos do marido, seus transtornos de humor, as fissuras de sua memória, seu costume recente de soluçar durante o sono, mas não os identificou como os sinais inequívocos do óxido final e sim como uma volta feliz à infância. Por isso não o tratava como a um ancião difícil e sim como a um menino senil, e esse engano foi providencial para ambos porque os pôs a salvo da compaixão." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Mas se alguma coisa haviam aprendido juntos era que a sabedoria nos chega quando já não serve para nada." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Lembrou a ele que os fracos não entram jamais no reino do amor, que é um reino impiedoso e mesquinho, e que as mulheres só se entregam aos homens de ânimo resoluto, porque lhes infundem a segurança pela qual tanto anseiam para enfrentar a vida." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Seus óculos de menino enjeitado, sua postura clerical, seus recursos misteriosos haviam suscitado nela uma curiosidade difícil de resistir, mas nunca imaginara que a curiosidade fosse outra das tantas ciladas do amor." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Ela lhe parecia tão bela, tão sedutora, tão diferente da gente comum, que não compreendia que ninguém se transtornasse como ele com as castanholas dos seus saltos nas pedras do calçamento, ou tivesse o coração descompassado com os ares e os suspiros de suas mangas, ou não ficasse louco de amor o mundo inteiro com os ventos de sua trança, o voo de suas mãos, o outro do seu riso. Não perdera um gesto seu, nem um indício do seu caráter, mas não se atrevia a se aproximar dela pelo medo de desfazer o encanto." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Quando guardou o violino na caixa e se afastou pelas ruas mortas sem olhar para trás já não achava que ia embora na manhã seguinte, e sim que tinha ido embora há muitos anos com a disposição inabalável de não voltar nunca mais." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Mais do que parecia quando ela estava vestida, seu corpo era ondulante e elástico, com um cheiro próprio de animal montês que permitia distingui-la entre todas as mulheres do mundo." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Ele tinha consciência de que não a amava. Casara-se porque gostava de sua altivez, sua seriedade, sua força e também por um tico de vaidade, mas enquanto ela o beijava pela primeira vez teve a certeza de que não haveria nenhum obstáculo para invetar um bom amor." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Só me dói morrer se não for de amor." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Não havia pior inimigo dos amores secretos do que um carro esperando na porta." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Algo definitivo tinha acontecido com ela enquanto ele dormia: os sedimentos acumulados no fundo da sua idade através de tantos anos tinham sido revolvidos pelo suplício do ciúme, e tinham vindo à tona, e a haviam envelhecido num instante." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Tinham vivido juntos o suficiente para perceber que o amor era o amor em qualquer tempo e em qualquer parte, mas tanto mais denso ficava quanto mais perto da morte." (Gabriel García Márquez, O Amor nos Tempos do Cólera)

"Parece-me fácil viver sem ódio. Sem amor, acho impossível." (Jorge Luis Borges)

"There is always something ridiculous about the passion of people whom one has ceased to love." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"Finally, he went over to the table and wrote a passionate letter to the girl he had loved, imploring her forgiveness, and accusing himself of madness. He covered page after page with wild words of sorrow, and wilder worlds of pain. There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. When Dorian Gray had finished the letter, he felt that he had been forgiven." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"There are only two kinds of people who are really fascinating, people who know absolutely everything, and people who know absolutely nothing." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"I have never been so happy. And of course it is sudden: all really delightful things are." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"The real drawback to marriage is that it makes one unselfish And unselfish people are colorless. They lack individuality." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"People are very fond of giving away what they need most themselves." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"I want to make Romeo jealous, I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir the dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls romance." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"People who only love once in their lives are really shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either the lethargy of custom or the lack of imagination. Faithlessness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the intellectual life - simply a confession of failure." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"No woman is a genius: women are a decorative sex. They never have anything to say, but they say it charmingly." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"She was always in love with somebody, and, as her passion was never returned, she had kept all her illusions." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"Always! That is a dreadful word. It makes me shudder when I heart it. Women are so fond of using it. They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever. It is a meaningless word, too. The only difference between a caprice and a life-long passion is that the caprice lasts a little longer." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highets of all duties, the duty that one owes to one's self. Of course they are charitable. They feed the hungry, and clothe the beggar. But their own souls starve, and are naked. Courage has gone out of our race. Perhaps we never really had it." (Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray)

"I want someone who will be monogamous and nice to his mother. And I want someone who likes musicals, but knows to just shut his mouth when I'm watching Lost. And I want someone who thinks being really into cars is lame and strip clubs are gross. I want someone who will actually empty the dishwasher instead of just taking out forks as needed, like I do. I want someone with clean hands and feet and beefy forearms like a damn Disney prince. And I want him to genuinely like me, even when I'm old. And that's what I want." (Liz Lemon)

"Confidence is 10% hard work and 90% delusion." (Tina Fey)

"...Unless he leaves her, she thought, her chest swelling with a strange feeling of lightness, as if hope were helium. Unless he leaves her to be with me." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"Todd had always been disturbed by the idea of elderly people making love, their droopy, liver-spotted bodies, the hair sprouting from where it shouldn't, the wayward odors, the unpleasant proximity to death. Sometimes Kathy joked about it, asking if he'd still find her attractive when her gums receded and her tits were hanging halfway to the floor. Of course he said yes; what else was he supposed to say? But the truth was, he couldn't even imagine Kathy as an old woman, or himself as an old man hoisting hilsemf aboard her creaky bones. Kathy not beautiful wasn't really Kathy. But sometimes, when he was making love with Sarah, a weird sense of exhilaration would wash over him, and he'd believe for a moment or two that he could happily fuck her when they were both eighty-five and toothless, that the way their bodies looked was somehow beside the point. But he kept this thought to himself, suspecting that she wouldn't take it as a compliment." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"If there was one thing life had taught him, it was that it was ridiculous to be at war with your own desires. You always lost in the end, so the interlude of struggle never amounted to anything but so much wasted time. It was much more efficent to give in right away, make your mistakes and get on with the rest of your life." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"Kathy was wonderful, of course, even at the end of a long workday, releasing a tired sigh as she dropped her overloaded tote bag onto the floor. She was the kind of woman who always surprised you with the realization that she was just as lovely as you remembered, though it hardly seemed possible in her absence." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"She was a failure, a twenty-six-year-old woman of still-ambiguous sexuality who had just discovered that she wasn't nearly as smart as she'd thought she was. I am a painfully ordinary person, she reminded herself on a daily baisis, destined to live a painfully ordinary life." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"...she didn't really mind once she adjusted her expectations." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"She cultivated an image of herself as a young professor, a feminist film critic, perhaps. She would be a mentor and an inspiration to girls like herself, the quiet ones who'd sleepwalked their way through high school, knowing nothing except that they couldn't possibly be happy with any of the choices the world seemed to be offering them." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"Not that they would, but if any of the other mothers had asked how it was that Sarah, of all people, had ended up married, living in the suburbs, and caring full-time for a small child, she would have blamed it all on a moment of weakness. At least that was how she described it to herself. [...] After all, what was adult life but one moment of weakness piled on top of another? Most people just fell in line like obedient little children, doing exactly what society expected of them at any given moment, all the while pretending that they'd actually made some sort of choice." (Tom Perrotta, Little Children)

"It is an impressively arrogant move to conclude that just because you don't like something, it is empirically not good. I don't like Chinese food, but I don't write articles trying to prove it doesn't exist." (Tina Fey, Bossypants)

"This is what it feels to implode, I thought. This feeling of bursting but no relief." (Marian Keyes, This Charming Man)

"My problem is that I fall in love with words rather than actions. I fall in love with ideas and thoughts instead of reality. And it will be the death of me."

"I love unmade beds. I love when people are drunk and crying and cannot be anything but honest in that moment. I love the look in people’s eyes when they realize they’re in love. I love the way people look when they first wake up and they’ve forgotten their surroundings. I love the gasp people take when their favorite character dies. I love when people close their eyes and drift to somewhere in the clouds. I fall in love with people and their honest moments all the time. I fall in love with their breakdowns and their smeared makeup and their daydreams. Honesty is just too beautiful to ever put into words."

"All my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot name." (André Breton)

"I prefer an interesting vice to a virtue that bores." (Moliere)

"A sharp tongue can cut your own throat."

"Quando se ama alguém, ama-se a vida inteira daquela pessoa. Inclusive o que não se viveu." (Fabrício Carpinejar, Espero Alguém)

"O que desejo dizer é que não precisa se apressar. Nunca chegará atrasada porque sempre a estarei esperando." (Fabrício Carpinejar, Espero Alguém)

"Para nós, não havia diferença entre o raso e o profundo, tudo era mergulho." (Fabrício Carpinejar, Espero Alguém)

"I'm sorry that I am both your umbrella and the rain."

"Granted, she's not my first love. Granted, she's not my great love. But she sure as hell is my last love. Doesn't that count for something?" (The Human Stain)

"If you can't save your own life, is it even worth saving?" (Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor and Park)

"Eleanor... Standing behind him until he turned his head. Lying next to him just before he woke up. Making everyone else seen drabber and flatter and never good enough." (Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor and Park)

"We do horrible things, we make wars, we kill people out of greed. So who are we to say how to love?" (Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You)

"Like ivy, we grow where there is room for us. She seemed to have room for me." (Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You)

"I pressed my lips against his ear and whispered again, It's not your fault. Perhaps this was really the only thing I had ever wanted to say to anyone, and be told." (Miranda July, No One Belongs Here More Than You)

"You have to be smart to be complicated."

"Comovo-me em excesso, por natureza e por ofício. Acho medonho alguém viver sem paixões." (Graciliano Ramos)

"É muito raro encontrar almas livres, mas logo se vê quando são." (Charles Bukowski)

"É muito melhor arriscar coisas grandiosas, alcançar triunfos e glórias, mesmo expondo-se a derrota, do que formar fila com os pobres de espírito que nem gozam muito nem sofrem muito, porque vivem nessa penumbra cinzenta que não conhece vitória nem derrota." (Theodore Roosevelt)

"Essa é a armadilha de ter algo para o qual se viver: todo o resto parece sem vida." (Todo Dia, David Levithan)

"I loved Sumire more than anyone else and wanted her more than anything in the world. And I couldn't just shelve those feelings, for there was nothing to take their place." (Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart)

"Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the Earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?" (Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart)

"What's nurtured slowly grows well."

"O amor me deu as boas-vindas, mas minha alma recuou, culpada de poeira e pecado."

"Amar outro ser humano com todas as suas forças era viver em estado de graça ou em estado de masoquismo? Honestamente, às vezes era difícil de distinguir." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Depois de Lota, e depois do Brasil, ela amaria outras pessoas e outros lugares, mas seria uma espécie diferente de amor, tão diferente que teria dúvida de que o sentimento pudesse ser chamado pela mesma palavra. A maior surpresa seria descobrir que o final abrupto de sua amante não resultaria também na morte do amor; que depois de anos de torpor, seguido de pesar e raiva em medidas iguais, haveria novamente amor. Simplesmente amor. De uma maneira tão natural quanto se Lota ainda estivesse viva para recebê-lo. Mas era isto precisamente que Lota havia lhe ensinado: que dar amor é sua própria recompensa, que dar amor é, em si mesmo, talvez, a mais profunda forma de liberação, que quanto mais se dá, mais se preenche a si mesma e se está desperta para o mundo a sua volta." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Olhando seu dorso delgado se afastar no quarteirão até finalmente desaparecer, Lota sentiu uma doçura tão apurada quanto uma mágoa. Havia momentos com Elizabeth, como aquele, mais e mais frequentes, em que Lota era tomada não apenas pela alegria do amor, como por sua crueza, sua dor." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Sei um pouco de tudo mas não muito sobre coisa alguma." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Agarraram-se uma à outra como se o lugar onde estavam fosse o único ponto tranquilo em todo o mundo." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Sinceramente, ela nunca tinha sentido algo parecido. Não era um desejo meramente físico, era o desejo de se lançar para frente, de se arremessar por inteiro no espaço entre elas, sem saber o que pararia sua queda. Seria aquilo amor? Ou mesmo o começo do amor?" (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Quando é que se assinala o começo, o momento em que as rodas são postas em movimento? No primeiro encontro dos olhos, na apresentação formal com os nomes? Ou mais tarde, quando a inevitabilidade de algo a mais já não pode ser negada, quando é preciso que seja dita em voz alta?" (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Sua experiência com mulheres não era menos frustante, com decepções e desentendimentos. Constante, o refrão de Marjorie se repetia: 'Tudo o que você dá são fragmentos'. Ela não podia negar. Era tudo o que tinha para dar, pequenos fragmentos trazendo poucas palavras escritas. Algumas vezes podiam ser encontrados no chão, onde haviam caído, juntando poeira." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Aquele último ano, ou pouco mais, havia sido possivelmente o pior de todos, de longe, o pior de todos, mas ela nunca tinha pensado em se matar. Beber, sim; suicídio, não. Não como solução. Mesmo na maior depressão, no mais profundo menosprezo por si mesma, estava decidida a emergir dos destroços. Mas teve um vislumbre. Entendia agora por que algumas pessoas chegavam à decisão de que toda aquela estupidez, aquele esforço patético, precisava ter um fim." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Tudo aquilo era tão perfeito; apenas a srta. Bishop estava errada." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"Essa hostilidade, esse veneno... ela não conseguia evitar. Aquilo a seguia pelo mar. Sim, certamente a pessoa permanecia aquilo que era - era esta a lição, cruze quantas latitudes quiser. Ou seria possível, ela poderia esperar, que aquilo não passasse dos vestígios tóxicos dos dois últimos anos deixando finalmente o seu organismo, como água de um cano em desuso cuspindo ferrugem antes de se tornar clara?" (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"A verdade é que a pessoa está presa dentro de si mesma, aonde quer que vá. Entender a mim mesma, ou ter uma compreensão melhor do mundo, não é coisa que aconteça com a mesma facilidade quanto comprar uma passagem em um cargueiro." (Michael Sledge, A Arte de Perder)

"I want, by understanding myself, to understand others. I want to be all that I am capable of becoming so that I may be (and here I have stopped and waited and waited and it’s no good — there’s only one phrase that will do) a child of the sun." (Katherine Mansfield)

"I have left my book, I have left my room, for I heard you singing through the room." (James Joyce)

"You can't expect someone who was raised in the desert to swim like a fish." (Reaching for the Moon)

"If I don't have what I want I'm lonely and sad. And if I do have what I want I'm sure I'm gonna lose it. And the waiting is unbearable." (Reaching for the Moon)

"If you want to build a ship don't drum people together to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea." (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)

"Perhaps he didn't have to profess his love every time someone came around and made him feel less unhappy than he had been previously. Perhalps he could just walk away from this and save himself the further complication of his life." (Kevin Wilson, The Family Fang)

"Everything seemed filtered by the understanding that one of them had made it across the ocean, her feet solidly placed on an undiscovered country, while the other had been lost at sea." (Kevin Wilson, The Family Fang)

"She could not smash anything without breaking herself." (Kevin Wilson, The Family Fang)

"People who were too outgoing made her suspicious. She couldn't help but presume that all the loud noise was created to hide quiet lies." (Chris Pavone)

"Clarissa era pura de coração; era isso. Peter a acharia sentimental. Que fosse. Pois tinha vindo a sentir que esta era a única coisa que valia a pena - sentir. Inteligência era bobagem. Devia-se simplesmente dizer o que se sentia." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Sentiu-se de certa forma muito parecida com ele - com o rapaz que tinha se matado. Sentiu-se alegre que tivesse feito aquilo; se lançado com tudo enquanto eles continuavam a viver." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"De alguma maneira era sua catástrofe - sua desgraça. Era seu castigo ver se afundar e desaparecer aqui um homem, ali uma mulher, nessa escuridão profunda, e ela obrigada a ficar aqui com seu vestido de noite." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Ninguém vive só para si mesmo." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Todo esse transtorno de vir à Inglaterra e consultar advogados não era para se casar com ela, era para impedi-la de se casar com qualquer outro." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Era o ciúme que estava no fundo daquilo - o ciúme que sobrevive a todas as outras paixões da humanidade." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Não, não, não! Ele não estava mais apaixonado por ela! Apenas se sentia, depois de vê-la naquela manhã, entre suas tesouras e sedas, preparando-se para a festa, incapaz de afastar o pensamento dela; continuava voltando sem parar como alguém adormecido num vagão de trem oscilando e se enconstando nele; o que não era estar apaixonado, claro; era pensar nela, criticá-la, voltar, depois de trinta anos, a tentar entendê-la." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Mesmo assim, o sol era quente. Mesmo assim, a gente superava as coisas. Mesmo assim, a vida arranjava um jeito de somar um dia ao outro." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Ela fechou a porta. E logo ele ficou profundamente deprimido. Tudo aquilo parecia inútil - continuar apaixonado; continuar a brigar; continuar a fazer as pazes, e ele foi passear sozinho, entre galpões e cocheiras, olhando os cavalos. [...] Foi uma noite horrível! Ele foi ficando cada vez mais triste, não só com aquilo; com tudo. E não podia vê-la; não podia lhe explicar; não podia resolver. Sempre havia gente em torno - ela continuava como se não tivesse acontecido nada. Este era seu lado diabólico - essa frieza, essa insensibilidade, algo muito profundo nela, que ele sentira mais uma vez esta manhã conversando com ela; uma impenetrabilidade. Mas os céus sabem o quanto ele a amava. Ela tinha algum estranho poder de tocar nos nervos da pessoa, de converter os nervos em cordas sensíveis, tinha sim." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Que hábito extraordinário era aquele, pensou Clarissa; sempre brincando com um canivete. Sempre fazendo a pessoa se sentir, também, frívola; cabeça oca; uma simples tagarela tola, como costumava fazer. Mas eu também, pensou ela, e pegando a agulha, convocou como uma rainha cujos guardas tenham caído no sono deixando-a desprotegida (ela tinha sido apanhada totalmente de surpresa por essa visita - ficara transtornada) e assim qualquer um pode entrar e fitá-la deitada sob os arbustos se curvando sobre ela, convocou em seu auxílio as coisas que fazia; as coisas que apreciava; o marido; Elizabeth; ela mesma, em suma, a quem Peter mal conhecia agora; todas elas, para que viessem e derrotassem o inimigo." (Virgina Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Não, as palavras agora não significavam absolutamente nada para ela. Não conseguia captar sequer um eco da antiga emoção. Mas podia lembrar que gelava de excitação e se penteava numa espécie de êxtase (agora o velho sentimento começava a lhe voltar, enquanto retirava os grampos, colocava-os no toucador, começava a se pentear), com as gralhas subindo e descendo a se exibir na luz rosada do entardecer, vestia-se e descia as escadas sentindo a cruzar o saguão que 'se fosse para morrer agora seria o momento mais feliz'. Era este seu sentimento - o sentimento de Otelo, e ela o sentiu, tinha certeza, com a intensidade com que Shakespeare pretendia que Otelo o sentisse, tudo porque estava descendo para jantar com um vestido branco para encontrar Sally Seton!" (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"A coisa estranha, olhando para trás, era a pureza, a integridade de seu sentimento por Sally. Não era como o sentimento por um homem. Era totalmente desinteressado, e além disso tinha uma qualidade que só podia existir entre mulheres, entre mulheres recém-saídas da adolescência. Era protetor, do lado dela; brotava de uma sensação de estarem ligadas, de um pressentimento de algo fadado a separá-las (elas sempre falavam do casamento como uma catástrofe), que levava a esse cavalheirismo, a esse sentimento protetor muito mais de seu lado do que do lado de Sally. Pois naqueles dias ela era totalmente estouvada; fazia as coisas mais idiotas por bravata; andava de bicicleta no parapeito do terraço; fumava charutos. Absurda, ela era - muito absurda. Mas o encanto era irresistível, pelo menos para ela, tanto que lembrava que ficava parada no quarto no alto da casa segurando a caneca de água quente na mão e falando em voz alta: 'Ela está sob este teto... Ela está sob este teto!'." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Ressentia-se, tinha um escrúpulo adquirido sabem os céus onde, ou, como sentia ela, enviado pela Natureza (que é invariavelmente sábia); mesmo assim às vezes não conseguia resistir a se render ao encanto de uma mulher, não uma moça, de uma mulher confessando, como tantas vezes lhe faziam, algum apuro, alguma leviandade. E fosse por piedade, ou pela beleza delas, ou porque era mais velha, ou algum acaso - como um leve perfume ou um violino na casa ao lado (tão estranho é o poder dos sons em certos momentos), ela então sentia indubitavelmente o que sentiam os homens. Apenas por um instante; mas era o suficiente. Era uma revelação súbita, um colorido como um rubor que a pessoa tentava controlar e então, ao se alastrar, cedia à expansão dele, e corria até a orla mais distante e lá ficava a fremir e a sentir o mundo se aproximando, dilatado com alguma assombrosa significação, alguma pressão de arrebatamento, que fendia sua fina membrana e jorrava e transbordava com um alívio extraordinário sobre as gretas e as chagas. Então, durante aquele instante, ela via uma iluminação; uma mecha incendiando a sarça; um sentido interno quase revelado. Mas o próximo se afastava; o duro amolecia. Tinha acabado - o instante." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Então que importância tinha, perguntou a si mesma, seguindo para a Bond Street, que importância tinha se inevitavelmente deixaria de existir; se tudo isso iria continuar sem ela; ressentia-se com aquilo, ou não seria um consolo crer que a morte era o fim absoluto?" (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Ainda se pegava discutindo no St. James Park, ainda concluindo que tinha feito bem - e mais do que bem - em não se casar com ele. Pois no casamento precisa existir uma pequena liberdade, uma pequena independência entre as pessoas que vivem juntas na mesma casa dia após dia; coisa que Richard lhe dava, e ela a ele. (Onde estava ele agora, por exemplo? Em algum comitê, ela nunca perguntava qual.) Mas com Peter tudo tinha de ser dividido; tudo partilhado. E era intolerável, e, quando houve aquela cena no jardinzinho junto à fonte, ela teve de romper com ele ou sairiam destruídos, ambos arrasados, tinha certeza; embora durante anos tivesse carregado dentro de si como uma flecha cravada no coração a dor, a angústia; então o horror do instante quando alguém lhe contou durante um concerto que ele tinha se casado com uma mulher que conhecera no navio indo para a Índia! Ela nunca esqueceria nada daquilo! Fria, desalmada, uma puritana, disse-lhe ele. Nunca conseguiria entender o quanto ele gostava dela. Mas aquelas indianas decerto entendiam - umas patetas tolas, bonitinhas, frívolas. E ela estava se compadecendo à toa. Pois estava muito feliz, garantiu-lhe ele - plenamente feliz, embora nunca tivesse feito nada de destaque; sua vida inteira tivesse sido um fracasso. Isso ainda despertava raiva nela." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"No olhar das pessoas, no andar ondulante, no passo firme ou arrastado; na gritaria e tumulto; nas carroças, automóveis, ônibus, furgões, homens-cartaz gingando e arrastando os pés; nas bandas e realejos; na marcha, no refrão e na estranha cantoria aguda de algum avião lá em cima estava o que ela amava: a vida, Londres, este momento de junho." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway) "Não existe nada mais fascinante do que se enxergar a verdade por trás daquelas imensas fachadas de ficção - isso se a vida for de fato verdadeira e se a ficção for de fato fictícia." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"É difícil - talvez impossível - a um escritor dizer qualquer coisa sobre sua obra. Tudo o que ele tem a dizer, já disse da maneira mais completa, da melhor maneira que lhe é possível, no corpo do próprio livro." (Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway)

"Like a shadow, I am and I am not." (Rumi)

"Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darkness of other people." (Carl Jung)

"I am mine before I am ever anyone else's."

"You are at once both the quiet and confusion of my heart." (Franz Kafka)

"Drowning people sometimes die fighting their rescuers."

"Im scared you will realize I'm just bones and questions and leave me for something solid." (Clementine von Radics)

"Her soul felt like a tomato that had been left at the bottom of the fridge for four months. Black, reeking, rotting. One touch and it would collapse. It sat at her center, infecting her entire being with filth." (Marian Keyes, This Charming Man)

"If you can't fall in love in San Francisco you can't fall in love anywhere." (Blue Jasmine)

"The heart is not like a box that gets filled up. It expands in size the more you love." (Her)

"Both of us grew and changed together. But that's also the hard part, growing without growing apart, changing without scaring the other person." (Her)

"Sometimes I think I have felt everything I'm ever gonna feel. And from here on out, I'm not gonna feel anything new. Just lesser versions of what I've already felt." (Her)

"I don't like standard beauty. There is no beauty without strangeness." (Karl Lagerfeld)

"Everything that comes together falls apart."

"You shall love your crooked neighbour / with your crooked heart." (W. H. Auden)

"I wanted so badly to lie down next to her and sleep. Not fuck, like in those movies. Not even have sex. Just sleep together, in the most innocent sense of the phrase. But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend and I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane." (Looking for Alaska, John Green)

"I wasn't sure whether I liked her, and I doubted whether I could trust her, but I cared at least enough to try to find out." (John Green, Looking for Alaska)

"Meriwether Lewis's last words were, 'I am not a coward, but I am so strong. So hard to die.' I don't doubt that it is, but it cannot be much harder than being left behind." (John Green, Looking for Alaska)

"That is the fear. I have lost something important, and I cannot find it, and I need it. It is fear like if someone lost his glasses and went to the glasses store and they told him that the world had run out of glasses and he would just have to do without." (John Green, Looking for Alaska)

"Had I told the sea what I felt for you, it would have left its shores, its shells, its fish, and followed me." (Nizar Qabbani)

"Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first one who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior." (J.D Salinger)

"How sweet it must be to feel all the pain at once, then never again."

"The truth is, most of us discover where we are heading when we arrive." (Calvin and Hobbes)

"Love isn’t soft, like those poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close." (Stephen King)

"Onde não puderes amar, não te demores." (Frida Kahlo)

"Starting over isn't crazy. Crazy is being miserable and walking around half-asleep, numb, day after day after day. Crazy is pretending to be happy, pretending that the way things are is the way they have to be for the rest of your bleeding life."

"Whatever happens to you belongs to you. Make it yours. Feed it to yourself even if it feels impossible to swallow. Let it nurture you, because it will." (Cheryl Strayed)

"I am, at least, the master of my own downfall."

"A girl expecting rescue never learns to save herself."

"What you are comes to you."

"He was a few medications away from falling completely apart."

"What was wrong was never understood, and what was right never lasted." (Bukowski)

"Self-knowledge is no guarantee of happiness, but it is on the side of happiness and can supply the courage to fight for it."

"I was lost then and I am lost now, and I doubt I'll ever know which way to go."

"Only the broken will want to repair you."

"All my life I've felt like somebody's wife, or mother, or daughter. Even when we were together I never knew who I was. That's why I had to go away." (Kramer vs. Kramer)

"Please leave the radio on with the sound turned down. Please leave me almost alone."

"The sensation of falling into the past is not unlike that of coming home for the holidays."

"I don't want to go where I am going, I just want to leave where I am."

"The next time that you feel really good, just keep feeling that way for the rest of your life."

"I'll never forget that night when none of us said a single world."

"You're not old enough to know how bad life gets." (The Virgin Suicides)

"We knew that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was to create the noise that fascinated them. They knew everything about us, but we couldn't fathom them at all." (The Virgin Suicides)

"She was the still point of a turning world. I never got over that girl. Never." (The Virgin Suicides)

"You know, most people will never taste that kind of love. At least I tasted it once." (The Virgin Suicides)

"The only way we felt close to the girls was through these impossible excursions which have scared us forever, making us happier with dreams than wives." (The Virgin Suicides)

"You are here. All that was lost is now found."

"I would save the receptionist."

"O suicídio é uma forma de assassinato - assassinato premeditado. Não é algo que se faz da primeira vez que se pensa em fazer. A gente precisa se acostumar com a ideia. E precisa dos meios, da oportunidade, do motivo. Um suicídio bem-sucedido exige boa organização e cabeça fria, coisas geralmente incompatíveis com o estado de espírito de quem quer se suicidar." (Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted)

"Não estava morta, mas alguma coisa havia morrido." (Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted)

"Seria a insanidade uma simples questão de parar de fingir?" (Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted)

"A repulsa sempre tem um quê de fascinação." (Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted)

"Era um dia de primavera, desses que trazem esperança: cheio de brisas suaves e delicados aromas de terra aquecida. Tempo de suicídio." (Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted)

"Cada pessoa é uma pessoa. Cada um faz o que é possível fazer." (Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted)

"A vida é muito curta para ser pequena."

"I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February."

"O senhor sabe o que é o silêncio? É a gente mesmo, demais." (Guimarães Rosa)

"Eu sei por que eu disse que te amava depois daquela transa, com tão pouco tempo de convívio: porque eu estava me amando pela primeira vez na vida."

"Era sua para sempre, mas nunca mais seria dela mesma."

"Não estou só. Não me pergunte se estou feliz, apenas ouça bem: não estou só."

"Será que em algum momento um amor deixa de ser nosso, mesmo tendo acabado para sempre?"

"Não consigo imaginar nada mais satisfatório do que amar, e mesmo não sabendo o que o amor significa, sei o que representa."

"Ela era linda de morrer. Os olhos combinavam com o nariz, que não destoava da boca, que se alinhava de forma sublime com o queixo. Tudo era de uma proporção que faria Michelangelo pedi-la em casamento. Mas faltava o charme da descompostura, o olhar verdadeiro de algumas noites maldormidas, a aflição de quem traz um tijolo de maconha na bolsa, uma desordem que a personalizasse. Ainda assim, entendi sua atração por ela. Era um belo cartão-postal de mulher."

"Eu estava conseguindo a quietude de ser eu mesma. Demais ou na medida, tanto fazia."

"Continuo sentindo tudo o que sentia, mas já sem procurar lógica para esse sentimento atrofiante. Sigo triste, mas menos catastrófica."

"Felicidade é um resumo fácil, uma preguiça de investigar o muito mais que nos ergue diariamente."

"Você dorme e me deixa insone para sempre."

"Será que essas civilidades acontecem mesmo ou a gente nunca esquece, nunca, nunca, nunca esquece um amor vivido de forma tão audaz?"

"I'm glad to have my disappointment, which is much better than having nothing."

"America for business. France for love." (Populaire)

"It was not so much, she would write in her journal, that she wanted to have sex with women, but she wanted to disappear inside of them forever. To hide." (The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold)

"My mother's eyes were oceans, and inside them there was loss." (The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold)

"The world is a book and those who don't travel only read a page." (St. Augustine)

"The only definitive thing is death." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Don't let yourself die without knowing the wonder of fucking with love." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Jealousy knows more than truth does." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"I always had understood that dying of love was mere poetic license. That afternoon, back home again without the cat and without her, I proved that it was not only possible to but that I myself, an old man without anyone, was dying of love. But I also realized that the contrary was true as well: I would not have traded the delights of my suffering for anything in the world." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"The invincible power that has moved the world is unrequited, not happy, love." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Thanks to her I confronted my inner self for the first time as my ninetieth year went by. I discovered that my obsession for having each thing in the right place, each subject at the right time, each word in the right style, was not the well-deserved reward of an ordered mind but just the opposite: a complete system of pretense invented by me to hide the disorder of my nature. I discovered that I am not disciplined out of virtue but as a reaction to my negligence, that I appear generous in order to conceal my meanness, that I pass myself off as prudent because I am evil-minded, that I am conciliatory in order not to succumb to my repressed rage, that I am punctual only to hide how little I care about other people's time. I learned, in short, that love is not a condition of the spirit but a sign of the zodiac." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Age isn't how old you are but how old you feel." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Those who do not sing cannot even imagine the joy of singing." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"The driver warned me: Be careful, scholar, they kill in that house. I replied: If it's for love it doesn't matter." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Seeing and touching her in the flesh, she seemed less real to me than in my memory." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Morality, too, is a question of time." (Gabriel García Márquez, Memories of My Melancholy Whores)

"Wherever I sat - on the deck of a ship or at a street café in Paris or Bangkok - I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"I felt like a racehorse in a world without racetracks or a champion college footballer suddenly confronted by Wall Street and a business suit, his days of glory shrunk to a little gold cup on his mantel with a date engraved on it like the date on a tombstone." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"I am going for a long walk." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"The same thing happened over and over: I would catch sight of some flawless man off in the distance, but as soon as he moved closer I immediately saw he wouldn't do at all." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"I felt dreadfully inadequate. The trouble was, I had been inadequated all along, I simply hadn't thought about it." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"The silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence. I knew perfectly well the cars were making a noise, and the people in them and behind the lit windows of the buildings were making a noise, and the river was making a noise, but I couldn't hear a thing. The city hung in my window, flat as a poster, glittering and blinking, but it might just as well not have been there at all for the good it did me." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"I felt very silly and very empty, the way the eye of a tornado must feel, moving dully along in the middle of the surrounding hullabaloo." (Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar)

"Every day I discover more and more beautiful things. It’s enough to drive one mad. I have such a desire to do everything, my head is bursting with it." (Claude Monet)

"Every little bit helps. But it helps so little."

"Weird love's better than no love at all." (Stephen King)

"Devo lembrar-vos de que é terminantemente proibido decepar cabeças que choram." (Jostein Gaarder, O Dia do Curinga)

"Meu conselho para todos os que querem se encontrar é continuarem bem onde estão. Do contrário, é grande o risco de se perderem para sempre." (Jostein Gaarder, O Dia do Curinga)

"Você já pensou em procurar outra mulher, em vez de passar metade da sua vida procurando aquela que também vive se procurando?" (Jostein Gaarder, O Dia do Curinga)

"Sorrow is like smoking: it is enjoyable at first, romantic and makes you seem mysterious and intelligent. However, it is ravenously addictive and will repel the people around you. Over time, it consumes you and proceeds to rot you from the inside out."

"…e deitado de novo na mole cama, fiquei mais uma vez defronte de um teto sem graça, mas com a sensação de estar começando a viver novamente. Vira o mundo lá fora. [...] Animais que continuariam vivendo, dependendo ou não do meu estado. Árvores que não se importavam com minhas mãos e pernas. Era assim que tinha de ser, estavam na deles. Por mais que queira negar, estou sozinho nessa, e vou ter que sair por minhas próprias forças." (Marcelo Rubens Paiva, Feliz Ano Velho)

"Is it me, is it you, or is it something in between?"

"Sitting here in traffic, my heart would beat at a regular speed. I am not alone. Trapped here, I could just be a normal person headed home to a wife, kids, a house. I could pretend that my life was more than just waiting for the next disaster. That I knew how to function. The way other kids would play house, I could play the commuter." (Chuck Palahniuk, Choke)

"How many times can everybody tell you that you are the oppressive, prejudiced enemy before you give up and become the enemy?" (Chuck Palahniuk, Choke)

"After you find out all the things that can go wrong, your life become less about living and more about waiting. For cancer. For dementia. Every look in a mirror, you scan for the red rash that means shingles." (Chuck Palahniuk, Choke)

"And it's funny how when somebody saves you, the first thing you want to do is save other people. All other people. Everybody." (Chuck Palahniuk, Choke)

"I'm not so much a good friend as I am the doctor who wants to adjust your spine every week. Or the dealer who sells you heroin. [...] I'm not so much a good friend as I am the savior who wants you to worship him forever. [...] I'm not so much a good friend as I am the parent who never wants you to really grow up." (Chuck Palahniuk, Choke)

"Go somewhere. Think about it."

"I am not afraid of storms for I am learning how to sail my ship." (Louisa May Alcott)

"All fiction you can feel is real."

"A man will steal your car or burn your house down or beat the shit out of you, but a woman will ruin your fucking life. A man will cut your arm off and throw it in a river, but he'll leave you, as a human being, intact. He won't fuck with who you are. Women are nonviolent but they will shit inside your heart." Louis C.K.: Chewed Up

"When you are in the middle of a story it isn't a story at all, but only a confusion; a dark roaring, a blindness, a wreckage of shattered glass and splintered wood; like a house in a whirlwind, or else a boat crushed by the icebergs or swept over the rapids, and all aboard powerless to stop it. It's only afterwards that it becomes anything like a story at all. When you are telling it, to yourself or to someone else." (Margaret Atwood)

"What are we, if not an accumulation of our memories?" (S. J. Watson, Before I Go To Sleep)

"If I could translate the badness in my head into physical pain, you would put a pillow over my face out of compassion. I mean that if I was a dog, you would shoot me." (Marian Keyes, The Mystery Of Mercy Close)

"I've heard people say that suffering from depression is like being stalked by a big black dog. Or like being encased in a glass. It was different for me, I felt more like I'd been poisoned. Like my brain was squirting out dirty brown toxins, poluting everything - my vision and my taste buds and most of all my thoughts." (Marian Keyes, The Mistery Of Mercy Close)

"Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best, even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily." (Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters)

"I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled." (Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters)

"I thought at the time that I couldn't be horrified anymore, or wounded. I suppose that's a common conceit, that you've already been so damaged that damage itself, in its totality, makes you safe." (Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin)