Barbora > Barbora's Quotes

“When you consider things like the stars, our affairs don't seem to matter very much, do they?”
― Virginia Woolf

“If you're lonely when you're alone, you're in bad company.”
― Jean-Paul Sartre

“Žmonės vieniši kaip medžiai. Medžiai liečiasi lapais, šakomis, bet kamienai visada stovi atskirai. Visada.”
― Jurga Ivanauskaitė, Pakalnučių metai

“Kartais man atrodo, kad tave, Tūla, aš pats susigalvojau - iš tikrųjų tavęs nė nebuvo.”
― Jurgis Kunčinas

“<…> klausausi, kaip tu alsuoji, kaip tirpsta šerkšnas ant tavo alveolių <…>”
― Jurgis Kunčinas, Tūla

“...tu mano namai - šiandien, ryt ir niekad!”
― Jurgis Kunčinas

“Mylėjau tave. Šildžiau tavo rankas, lanksčiau tavo pirštus, guldžiau tave ant savęs, kad greičiau sušiltum. Džiaugiausi kiekviena su tavimi praleista akimirka, taip, akimirka - jau tuomet vokiau, kad kiekviena, - iš kurgi vėliau būčiau viską taip gerai atsiminęs? Tokių žmonių kaip tu, Tūla, aš dar niekad nebuvau sutikęs - drovių, tarsi atsainių, bet be galo jautrių ir pažeidžiamų.”
― Jurgis Kunčinas, Tūla

“Į lango stiklą kažkas negarsiai pabeldė; nors ir taip gulėjau bežadis, Tūla pakėlė pirštą ir uždėjo ant mano lūpų – mūsų niekam nėra...”
― Jurgis Kunčinas, Tūla

“We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.”
― Anais Nin

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment

“Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.”
― Albert Camus

“Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol, morphine or idealism.”
― Carl Gustav Jung

“Mums visiems patinka žiūrėti pro rakto skylutę. Net jeigu tik į save.”
― Sigitas Parulskis, Murmanti siena

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”
― Leo Tolstoy , Anna Karenina

“Respect was invented to cover the empty place where love should be.”
― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”
― Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

“Ji pati iš savęs žino, kaip ramina gamtos balsas, vėjo ūžavimas klevo viršūnėje, kapinaičių medžiuose. Ypač rudens naktimis, pavasario vėtrose: esi vienas savo troboj, aplinkui siautėja baisingos jėgos - naktys, tamsos, lietūs, perkūnijos, o vis tiek žinai, kad niekas tavęs nepalies: gina medžiai, užstoję būstą, jie grumiasi, girgžda ir traška, bet jie neišduos tavęs, gyvenančios viršum jų šaknų, po jų viršūnėmis: tu jiems - savo žmogus, jie - tavo medžiai". "Gyvenimas po klevu", R. Granauskas”
― Romualdas Granauskas, Gyvenimas po klevu

“As a woman I have no country. As a woman I want no country. As a woman, my country is the whole world.”
― Virginia Woolf

“I am made and remade continually. Different people draw different words from me.”
― Virginia Woolf, The Waves

“My library is an archive of longings.”
― Susan Sontag, As Consciousness is Harnessed to Flesh: Journals and Notebooks, 1964-1980

“I wrote this story for you, but when I began it I had not realized that girls grow quicker than books. As a result you are already too old for fairy tales, and by the time it is printed and bound you will be older still. But some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. You can then take it down from some upper shelf, dust it, and tell me what you think of it. I shall probably be too deaf to hear, and too old to understand a word you say, but I shall still be your affectionate Godfather, C. S. Lewis.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe

“Walking into the library, I took in my breath sharply and stopped: glass fronted bookcases and Gothic panels, stretching fifteen feet to a frescoed and plaster-medallioned ceiling. In the back of the room was a marble fireplace, big as a sepulchre, and a globed gasolier--dripping with prisms and strings of crystal beading--sparkled in the dim.

There was a piano, too, and Charles was playing, a glass of whiskey on the seat beside him. He was a little drunk; the Chopin was slurred and fluid, the notes melting sleepily into one another. A breeze stirred the heavy, moth-eaten velvet curtains, ruffling his hair.”
― Donna Tartt, The Secret History

“Or perhaps it was simply that things were happening inside her, terrible things, which no one else could even guess at, and thus it was impossible for her to engage with everyday life at the same time. If so, she would naturally have no energy left, not just for curiosity or interest but indeed for any meaningful response to all the humdrum minutiae that went on on the surface.”
― Han Kang, The Vegetarian

“It called to mind something ancient, something pre-evolutionary, or else perhaps a mark of photosynthesis, and he realized to his surprise that there was nothing at all sexual about it; it was more vegetal than sexual.”
― Han Kang, The Vegetarian

“It melted in the rain ... it all melted ... I'd been just about to go down into the earth. There was nothing else for it if I wanted to turn myself upside down again, you see.”
― Han Kang, The Vegetarian

“Can only trust my breasts now. I like my breasts, nothing can be killed by them. Hand, foot, tongue, gaze, all weapons from which nothing is safe. But not my breasts. With my round breasts, I’m okay. Still okay. So why do they keep on shrinking? Not even round anymore. Why? Why am I changing like this? Why are my edges all sharpening–what am I going to gouge”
― Han Kang, The Vegetarian

“Begalė atsispindi grožyje, ir dėl to jis taip pagauna sielą. Nes kaip gėlė įtempia visas jėgas, stengdamos sugauti nors vieną saulės spindulėlį, be kurio negali gyvuoti, taip mūsų siela, šiame netobulybių pasaulyje būdama, veržias sugauti nors mažutę kibirkštėlę absoliuto, kurį nujaučia, kurio trokšta ir be kurio negali gyvuoti.”
― Šatrijos Ragana, Sename dvare

“That is part of the beauty of all literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you're not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald

“Her heart was made of liquid sunsets.”
― Virginia Woolf

“Theories that diseases are caused by mental states and can be cured by will power are always an index of how much is not understood about a disease.”
― Susan Sontag, Illness as Metaphor