Aya > Aya's Quotes

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  • #1
    John Banville
    “The past beats inside me like a second heart.”
    John Banville, The Sea

  • #2
    Alfred Tennyson
    “Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
    Tears from the depths of some devine despair
    Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
    In looking on the happy autumn fields,
    And thinking of the days that are no more.”
    Alfred Lord Tennyson

  • #3
    Cassandra Clare
    “There are memories that time does not erase... Forever does not make loss forgettable, only bearable.”
    Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

  • #4
    L.M. Montgomery
    “Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”
    L.M. Montgomery, The Story Girl

  • #5
    Shannon L. Alder
    “There comes a time in your life when you have to choose to turn the page, write another book or simply close it.”
    Shannon L. Alder

  • #6
    L.P. Hartley
    “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.”
    L.P. Hartley, The Go-Between

  • #7
    Lisa Wingate
    “The hardest thing about the road not taken is that you never know where it might have led.”
    Lisa Wingate, A Month of Summer

  • #8
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.”
    W. Somerset Maugham

  • #9
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “To acquire the habit of reading is to construct for yourself a refuge from almost all the miseries of life.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, Books and You

  • #10
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “The great tragedy of life is not that men perish, but that they cease to love.”
    W. Somerset Maugham

  • #11
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “How can I be reasonable? To me our love was everything and you were my whole life. It is not very pleasant to realize that to you it was only an episode.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil

  • #12
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideal which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. It looks as if they were victims of a conspiracy; for the books they read, ideal by the necessity of selection, and the conversation of their elders, who look back upon the past through a rosy haze of forgetfulness, prepare them for an unreal life. They must discover for themselves that all they have read and all they have been told are lies, lies, lies; and each discovery is another nail driven into the body on the cross of life.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

  • #13
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “He did not care if she was heartless, vicious and vulgar, stupid and grasping, he loved her. He would rather have misery with one than happiness with the other.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

  • #14
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “If a man hasn't what's necessary to make a woman love him, it's his fault, not hers.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil

  • #15
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “I had no illusions about you,' he said. 'I knew you were silly and frivolous and empty-headed. But I loved you. I knew that your aims and ideals were vulgar and commonplace. But I loved you. I knew that you were second-rate. But I loved you. It's comic when I think how hard I tried to be amused by the things that amused you and how anxious I was to hide from you that I wasn't ignorant and vulgar and scandal-mongering and stupid. I knew how frightened you were of intelligence and I did everything I could to make you think me as big a fool as the rest of the men you knew. I knew that you'd only married me for convenience. I loved you so much, I didn't care. Most people, as far as I can see, when they're in love with someone and the love isn't returned feel that they have a grievance. They grow angry and bitter. I wasn't like that. I never expected you to love me, I didn't see any reason that you should. I never thought myself very lovable. I was thankful to be allowed to love you and I was enraptured when now and then I thought you were pleased with me or when I noticed in your eyes a gleam of good-humored affection. I tried not to bore you with my love; I knew I couldn't afford to do that and I was always on the lookout for the first sign that you were impatient with my affection. What most husbands expect as a right I was prepared to receive as a favor.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil

  • #16
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person.”
    W. Somerset Maugham

  • #17
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “The only important thing in a book is the meaning that it has for you.”
    Somerset Maugham

  • #18
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “She had a pretty gift for quotation, which is a serviceable substitute for wit.”
    W. Somerset Maugham

  • #19
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “I have an idea that the only thing which makes it possible to regard this world we live in without disgust is the beauty which now and then men create out of the chaos. The pictures they paint, the music they compose, the books they write, and the lives they lead. Of all these the richest in beauty is the beautiful life. That is the perfect work of art.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil

  • #20
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “People ask you for criticism, but they only want praise.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

  • #21
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “It’s a very funny thing about life; if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it.”
    W. Somerset Maugham

  • #22
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “I know that you're selfish, selfish beyond words, and I know that you haven't the nerve of a rabbit, I know you're a liar and a humbug, I know that you're utterly contemptible. And the tragic part is'--her face was on a sudden distraught with pain--'the tragic part is that notwithstanding I love you with all my heart.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil

  • #23
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “One can be very much in love with a woman without wishing to spend the rest of one's life with her.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, The Painted Veil

  • #24
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “It was one of the queer things of life that you saw a person every day for months and were so intimate with him that you could not imagine existence without him; then separation came, and everything went on in the same way, and the companion who had seemed essential proved unnecessary.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

  • #25
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “There's always one who loves and one who lets himself be loved.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

  • #26
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “You will find as you grow older that the first thing needful to make the world a tolerable place to live in is to recognize the inevitable selfishness of humanity. You demand unselfishness from others, which is a preposterous claim that they should sacrifice their desires to yours. Why should they? When you are reconciled to the fact that each is for himself in the world you will ask less from your fellows. They will not disappoint you, and you will look upon them more charitably. Men seek but one thing in life -- their pleasure.”
    W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

  • #27
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “Only a mediocre person is always at his best. ”
    W. Somerset Maugham

  • #28
    W. Somerset Maugham
    “The love that lasts the longest is the love that is never returned”
    W. Somerset Maugham

  • #29
    Franz Kafka
    “It is as if a person were a prisoner, and he had not only the intention to escape, which would perhaps be attainable, but also, and indeed simultaneously, the intention to rebuild the prison as a pleasure dome for himself. But if he escapes, he cannot rebuild, and if he rebuilds, he cannot escape.”
    Franz Kafka, Letter to His Father

  • #30
    Franz Kafka
    “My writing was all about you; all I did there, after all, was to bemoan what I could not bemoan upon your breast.”
    Franz Kafka, Letter to His Father



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