Indrani > Indrani's Quotes

“I think I only appear smart by staying quiet as often as possible.”
― Sally Rooney, Conversations with Friends

“My ego had always been an issue. I knew that intellectual attainment was morally neutral at best, but when bad things happened to me I made myself feel better by thinking about how smart I was.”
― Sally Rooney, Conversations with Friends

“Under the stars,' she repeated. 'I never noticed the stars before. I always thought of them as great big diamonds that belonged to someone. Now they frighten me. They make me feel that it was all a dream, all my youth.'

It was a dream,' said John quietly. 'Everybody's youth is a dream, a form of chemical madness.'

How pleasant then to be insane!'

So I'm told,' said John gloomily. 'I don't know any longer. At any rate, let us love for a while, for a year or so, you and me. That's a form of divine drunkenness that we can all try. There are only diamonds in the whole world, diamonds and perhaps the shabby gift of disillusion. Well, I have that last and I will make the usual nothing of it.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Diamond as Big as the Ritz, and Other Stories

“I don't want to live, I want to love first and live incidentally.”
― Zelda Fitzgerald

“I love you, even if there isn’t any me, or any love, or even any life. I love you.”
― Zelda Fitzgerald

“I remember every single spot of light that ever gouged a shadow beside your bones.”
― Zelda Fitzgerald

“Thanks again for saving me. Someday, I’ll save you too.”
― Zelda Fitzgerald, Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda: The Love Letters of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald

“isn't it funny how danger makes people passionate?”
― Zelda Fitzgerald, Save Me the Waltz

“I dont' want to live - I want to love first, and live incidentally.”
― Zelda Fitzgerald

“The history of men's opposition to women's emancipation is more interesting perhaps than the story of that emancipation itself.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

“Anything may happen when womanhood has ceased to be a protected occupation.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own