“The marks humans leave are too often scars.”
-John Green, The Fault in Our Stars.
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“I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! -- When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”
-Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice.
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“I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.”
-Franz Kafka, The Castle.
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“I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more.”
-Franz Kafka, The Castle.
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“I've never been lonely. I've been in a room -- I've felt suicidal. I've been depressed. I've felt awful -- awful beyond all -- but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me...or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I've never been bothered with because I've always had this terrible itch for solitude.”
-Charles Bukowski.
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“I want in fact more of you. In my mind I am dressing you with light; I am wrapping you up in blankets of complete acceptance and then I give myself to you. I long for you; I who usually long without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you. ”
-Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena.
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“People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spot blues. Murky darkness. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.”
-Marcus Zusak, The Book Thief.
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What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.
-John Green, Paper Towns.
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All i need is a good romance novel and a cozy winter night but all i get is emotional instability and existential crisis.
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“And who here is not buried in another person's heart?”
- Richard Jackson, from "Filling in the Graves at a Cherokee Site".
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“Oh, the lonely shadow dances
from the cradle to the grave...
It’s a solo song
And it’s only for the brave”
-Louis Tomlinson, Only the brave.
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“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”
-Anton Chekhov
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