“Daydreams were what kept me going, day after day, and I had no right to them.”
— Kurt Vonnegut, from Mother Night; “A Polygamous Casanova,”
Etikett: poetry
At that moment I loved him. In the morning light he was as golden, as soft, as gentle as myself.
Françoise Sagan; Bonjour Tristesse
“I was about half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty… you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. Girls. Jesus Christ. They can drive you crazy. They really can.”
— J.D. Salinger (via quotemadness)
I only breathe, I only speak, I only move, I only act, thinking of you.
Victor Hugo, from a letter to Adèle Foucher written c. Aril 1820
Forgive me: I am gloomy and boring.
Anna Akhmatova, from Latest Letter [translated by Judith Hemschemeyer]
She’s the most beautiful thing in the world to me, the dearest and—the most difficult to understand.
The sound of her step enchants me, her changeful eyes dispense happiness—and trouble.
She’s like Destiny itself, she never hesitates.
Colette, tr. by Maire Kelly, from Selected Stories; “Barks and Purrs,”
My fear of hurting others produced more pain in the end.
Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry featured in Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary; 1939-1947
I frighten people. I don’t sleep a wink. I don’t know what to do.
Arthur Rimbaud, from a letter to his mother written c. April 1891
I have only one wretched life, but it belongs to you;
Victor Hugo, from a letter to Adèle Fouchet written c. March 1820
“Sad. I drink wine. Terrible feeling of being abandoned. Even if I hugged all the beings of the world to my breast, I would remain unprotected.”
— Albert Camus, from American Journals
beberequin 