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  • #1
    Virginia Woolf
    “...for unless I am myself, I am nobody.”
    Virginia Woolf, Complete Works of Virginia Woolf

  • #2
    Osamu Dazai
    “It made me miserable that I was rapidly becoming an adult and that I was unable to do anything about it.”
    Osamu Dazai, Schoolgirl

  • #3
    Hanya Yanagihara
    “And so I try to be kind to everything I see, and in everything I see, I see him.”
    Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

  • #4
    Anaïs Nin
    “I weep because you cannot save people. You can only love them. You can’t transform them, you can only console them.”
    Anaïs Nin, Nearer the Moon: From "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1937-1939

  • #5
    Kazuo Ishiguro
    “You say you’re sure? Sure that you’re in love? How can you know it? You think love is so simple? ”
    Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

  • #6
    Alice Oseman
    “So who's the strange one?" I grinned.
    "I don't know," he said, and then shrugged.
    "Sometimes I think if nobody spoke to me, I'd never speak again."
    "That sounds sad."
    He blinked. "Oh, yeah.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #7
    Alice Oseman
    “Life isn't all textbooks and grades.”
    Alice Oseman, Radio Silence

  • #8
    Ann Liang
    “If I’d kissed you,” he goes on, “you would have wanted me for an
    afternoon, and I would have wanted you for the rest of my life.”
    Ann Liang, I Am Not Jessica Chen

  • #9
    Mieko Kawakami
    “Memory's funny, isn't it? We remember some things out of nowhere, but so much of what happens, we never think about again.”
    Mieko Kawakami, All the Lovers in the Night

  • #10
    Mieko Kawakami
    “I thought about the books that I had looked through in the bookstore. It occurred to me that they were full of things that people wanted to say to other people, or things people wanted somebody to say to them.”
    Mieko Kawakami, All the Lovers in the Night

  • #11
    Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
    “Of course I’ll hurt you. Of course you’ll hurt me. Of course we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring, means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence.”
    Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPERY - MAN

  • #12
    Mieko Kawakami
    “I was so scared of being hurt that I'd done nothing. I was so scared of failing, of being hurt, that I choose nothing. I did nothing.”
    Mieko Kawakami, All the Lovers in the Night

  • #13
    Haruki Murakami
    “If you remember me, then I don't care if everyone else forgets.”
    Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

  • #14
    Mieko Kawakami
    “There are all kinds of things in the world I don't understand, but I really wanted to understand you.”
    Mieko Kawakami, Heaven

  • #15
    Ocean Vuong
    “In Vietnamese, the word for missing someone and remembering them is the same: nhớ. Sometimes, when you ask me over the phone, Có nhớ mẹ không? I flinch, thinking you meant, Do you remember me?

    I miss you more than I remember you.”
    Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

  • #16
    Ocean Vuong
    “Do you remember the happiest day of your life? What about the saddest? Do you ever wonder if sadness and happiness can be combined, to make a deep purple feeling, not good, not bad, but remarkable simply because you didn't have to live on one side or the other?”
    Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

  • #17
    Ocean Vuong
    “I wanted to cry but did not yet know how to in English. So I did nothing.”
    Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

  • #18
    Virginia Woolf
    “Second-hand books are wild books, homeless books; they have come together in vast flocks of variegated feather, and have a charm which the domesticated volumes of the library lack. Besides, in this random miscellaneous company we may rub against some complete stranger who will, with luck, turn into the best friend we have in the world.”
    Virginia Woolf, Street Haunting

  • #19
    Virginia Woolf
    “But when the door shuts on us, all that vanishes. The shell–like covering which our souls have excreted to house themselves, to make for themselves a shape distinct from others, is broken, and there is left of all these wrinkles and roughnesses a central oyster of perceptiveness, an enormous eye. How beautiful a street is in winter!”
    Virginia Woolf, Street Haunting



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