You can measure the happiness of a marriage by the number of scars that each partner carries on their tongues, earned from years of biting back angry words.
Sometimes I think of you and I feel giddy. Memory makes me lightheaded, drunk on champagne. All the things we did. And if anyone had said this was the price I would have agreed to pay it. That surprises me; that with the hurt and the mess comes a shift of
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and phy
And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked
I measure every grief I meet with narrow, probing eyes – I wonder if it weighs like mine – or has an easier size.
Every generation imagines itself to be more intelligent than the one that went before it, and wiser than the one that comes after it.
Sad will be the day for every man when he becomes contented with the thoughts he is thinking and the deeds he is doing.
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect when it began, or if there were a day when it was not. It has no future but itself, Its infinite realms contain Its past, enlightened to perceive new periods of pain.
There is only one sin. and that is theft... when you tell a lie, you steal someones right to the truth.
I stand on the sacrifices of a million women before me thinking what can I do to make this mountain taller so the women after me can see farther.
I can't even think of how I shall want you when it comes to that. Because it's all such a dream, that I sometimes wonder if it can really have happened.
Extremism is the enemy of love and of love's subtlety. It does not understand the loveliness of silence.
There is no such thing as a natural death: nothing that happens to a man is ever natural, since his presence calls the world into question. All men must die: but for every man his death is an accident, and even if he knows it and consents to it, an unjust
I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.
The mark of the immature man is that he wants to die nobly for a cause, while the mark of the mature man is that he wants to live humbly for one.
Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends; they wound those who resort to them worse than their enemies.
The last man! Yes, I may well describe that solitary being's feelings, feeling myself as the last relic of a beloved race, my companions extinct before me.
Do you not see how necessary a world of pains and troubles is to school an intelligence and make it a soul?
This is the difference between depression and sorrow - sorrowful, you are in great trouble because something matters...
