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  • #1
    Sylvia Plath
    “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”
    Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

  • #2
    Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
    “am I not the same being who once enjoyed an excess of happiness, who at every step saw paradise open before him, and whose heart was ever expanded towards the whole world? and this heart is now dead; no sentiment can revive it. my eyes are dry; and my senses, no more refreshed by the influence of soft tears, wither and consume my brain.”
    Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther

  • #3
    Rupi Kaur
    “did you think i was a city
    big enough for a weekend getaway
    i am the town surrounding it
    the one you've never heard of
    but always pass through
    there are no neon lights here
    no skyscapers or statues
    but there is thunder
    for i make bridges tremble
    i am not street meat i am homemade jam
    thick enough to cut the sweetest
    thing you lips will touch
    i am not police sirens
    i am the crackle of a fireplace
    i'd burn you and you still
    couldn't take your eyes off of me
    cause i'd look so beautiful doing it
    you'd blush
    i am not a hotel room i am home
    i am not the whiskey you want
    i am the water you need
    don't come here with expectations
    and try to make a vacation out of me”
    Rupi Kaur, Milk and honey

  • #4
    We accept the love we think we deserve.
    “We accept the love we think we deserve.”
    Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

  • #5
    Oscar Wilde
    “To define is to limit.”
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

  • #6
    Oscar Wilde
    “Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.”
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

  • #7
    Oscar Wilde
    “Because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul. He does not think his natural thoughts, or burn with his natural passions. His virtues are not real to him. His sins, if there are such things as sins, are borrowed. He becomes an echo of some one else's music, an actor of a part that has not been written for him. The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly -- that is what each of us is here for. People are afraid of themselves, nowadays. They have forgotten the highest of all duties, the duty that one owes to oneself. 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. The terror of society, which is the basis of morals, the terror of God, which is the secret of religion -- these are the two things that govern us.”
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray and Other Stories
    tags: soul

  • #8
    Oscar Wilde
    “She is all the great heroines of the world in one. She is more than an individual. I love her, and I must make her love me. 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 dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. ”
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

  • #9
    Oscar Wilde
    “The only artists I have ever known who are personally delightful are bad artists. Good artists exist simply in what they make, and consequently are perfectly uninteresting in what they are. A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The worse their rhymes are, the more picturesque they look. The mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible. He lives the poetry that he cannot write. The others write the poetry that they dare not realize.”
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

  • #10
    Oscar Wilde
    “There is only one thing in the world worse than being talked about, and that is not being talked about.”
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

  • #11
    Oscar Wilde
    “Enough is as bad as a meal. More than enough is as good as a feast.”
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

  • #12
    Olive Schreiner
    “The woman wanderer goes forth to seek the Land of Freedom.

    “How am I to get there?” Reason answers: “here is one way, and one only. Down the banks of Labour, through the water of suffering. There is no other.”

    The woman cries out: “For what do I go to this far land which no one has ever reached? Oh, I am alone! I am utterly alone!”

    But soon she hears the sounds of feet, ‘a thousand times ten thousand and thousands of thousands, and they beat this way!’

    “They are the feet of those who shall follow you. Lead on.”
    Olive Schreiner

  • #13
    Hanya Yanagihara
    “Was it better to trust or to be wary? Could you have a real friendship, if some part of you was always expecting betrayal?”
    Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

  • #14
    Hanya Yanagihara
    “When did pursuing your ambitions cross the line from brave into full hardy? How did you know when to stop? In earlier, more rigid, less encouraging (and ultimately, more helpful) decades things would be much clearer. You would stop when you turned forty, or when you got married, or when you had kids, or after five years, or ten years or fifteen. And then you would go get a real job, and acting and your dreams for a career in it would recede into the evening, a melting into the story as quiet as a briquette of ice sliding into a warm bath.”
    Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life



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