Mariya > Mariya's Quotes

“One heart is not connected to another through harmony alone. They are, instead, linked deeply through their wounds. Pain linked to pain, fragility to fragility. There is no silence without a cry of grief, no forgiveness without bloodshed, no acceptance without a passage through acute loss. That is what lies at the root of true harmony.”
― Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

“As we go through life we gradually discover who we are, but the more we discover, the more we lose ourselves.”
― Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

“Maybe I am fated to always be alone, Tsukuru found himself thinking. People came to him, but in the end they always left. They came, seeking something, but either they couldn’t find it, or were unhappy with what they found (or else they were disappointed or angry), and then they left. One day, without warning, they vanished, with no explanation, no word of farewell. Like a silent hatchet had sliced the ties between them, ties through which warm blood still flowed, along with a quiet pulse.”
― Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

“No matter how quiet and conformist a person’s life seems, there’s always a time in the past when they reached an impasse. A time when they went a little crazy. I guess people need that sort of stage in their lives.”
― Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

“We truly believed in something back then, and we knew we were the kind of people capable of believing in something - with all our hearts. And that kind of hope will never simply vanish.”
― Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

“The human heart is like a night bird. Silently waiting for something, and when the time comes, it flies straight toward it.”
― Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

“And you’ll return to real life. You need to live it to the fullest. No matter how shallow and dull things might get, this life is worth living. I guarantee it.”
― Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage

“Красивото и грозното зависят от любовта. Зависят от нежността. Красивото и грозното ги създаваме ние. Не е задължително очите ми да виждат като очите на останалите. Ще рисувам всичко това, защото вълнува душата ми. Мамка му, ще рисувам! Красива е ето тази парцалива обувка, с излинелия гълъбов цвят, който прелива към ръбовете във винено червено. И тези тежки кални боти – колко път са извървели само. Човекът ги е събул, стоят клюмнали, сякаш всичката умора е останала в тях. Красиви са уморените обувки, защото в тях спи извървеният път.”
― Керана Ангелова, Слънчогледи за Мария

“и не забравяй, пази се някой ден да не ми кажеш, че ме обичаш. Грозно и непочтено е да казваш на която и да е жена такова лигаво, немъжествено нещо, на всичко отгоре то никога не може да е истина.”
― Керана Ангелова, Слънчогледи за Мария

“Ей такива мигове правят живота. Броят се на пръстите на ръцете, но правят смисления живот.
Останалото е амнезия, забрава. Какво толкова, какво наистина, със какво е важен един такъв миг. Момиче, развява конската си опашка, пльока прозрачния балон на дъвката и се смее. Нищо и никакво. Мигове.
А в спомена започваш да ги проектираш бавно и с наслада върху екрана на стената или на тавана, там постепенно се появява лицето на невинността на всеки подобен миг. Зелената ципа на дъвката върху устните като прокъсано липово листо, блесналите очи, развятата руса коса, права и нежна като грива на младо конче. Присъствие и отстъствие, едновременно. Време и безвремие.
Ами, да: о, миг, поспри. Това са спрели мигове. Преди минута си дадох сметка, че не ме е наранявал и убивал или приютявал и спасявал целият живот, ранявали са ме и са ме спасявали спрелите мигове...”
― Керана Ангелова, Слънчогледи за Мария

“You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life, to be required to violate your own identity. At some time, every creature which lives must do so. It is the ultimate shadow, the defeat of creation; this is the curse at work, the curse that feeds on all life. Everywhere in the universe.”
― Philip K. Dick, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

“You know what I am." The words breathed out in an auguished whisper. "I'm part demon, Clary. Part demon. You understood that much, didn't you?" His eyes bored into her like drills. "You saw what Valentine was trying to do. He used demon blood-used it on me before I was even born. I'm part monster. Part everthing I've tried so hard to burn out, to destroy.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Glass

“You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“I disregard the proportions, the measures, the tempo of the ordinary world. I refuse to live in the ordinary world as ordinary women. To enter ordinary relationships. I want ecstasy. I am a neurotic — in the sense that I live in my world. I will not adjust myself to the world. I am adjusted to myself.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“What we call our destiny is truly our character and that character can be altered. The knowledge that we are responsible for our actions and attitudes does not need to be discouraging, because it also means that we are free to change this destiny. One is not in bondage to the past, which has shaped our feelings, to race, inheritance, background. All this can be altered if we have the courage to examine how it formed us. We can alter the chemistry provided we have the courage to dissect the elements.”
― Anais Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“There is not one big cosmic meaning for all; there is only the meaning we each give to our life, an individual meaning, an individual plot, like an individual novel, a book for each person.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“Ordinary life does not interest me. I seek only the high moments. I am in accord with the surrealists, searching for the marvelous. I want to be a writer who reminds others that these moments exist; I want to prove that there is infinite space, infinite meaning, infinite dimension. But I am not always in what I call a state of grace. I have days of illuminations and fevers. I have days when the music in my head stops. Then I mend socks, prune trees, can fruits, polish furniture. But while I am doing this I feel I am not living.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“I have no brakes on...analysis is for those who are paralyzed by life.”
― Anais Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“I can elect something I love and absorb myself in it.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“The struggle to emerge out of the past, clean of memories; the inadequacy of our hearts to cut life into separate and final portions; the pain of this constant ambivalence and interrelation of emotions; the hunger for frontiers against which we might learn as upon closed doors before we proceed forward; the struggle against diffusion, new beginnings, against finality in acts without finality or end, in our cursedly repercussive being..”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“Sex must be mixed with tears, laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“I only feel close to people who arouse my energy, who make enormous demands of me, who are capable of enriching me with experience, pain, people who do not doubt my courage, or my toughness. People who do not believe me naive or innocent, but who challenge my keenest wisdom, who have the courage to treat me like a woman in spite of the fact that they are aware of my vulnerability.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“June, you have killed my sincerity too. I will never again know who I am, what I am, what I love, what I want. Your beauty has drowned me, the core of me. You carry away with you a part of me reflected in you. When your beauty struck me, it dissolved me. Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existence. You are the woman I want to be. I see in you that part of me which is you. I feel compassion for your childish pride, for your trembling unsureness, your dramatization of events, your enhancing of the loves given to you. I surrender my sincerity because if I love you it means we share the same fantasies, the same madness.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“How can I accept a limited definable self when I feel, in me, all possibilities?... I never feel the four walls around the substance of the self, the core. I feel only space. Illimitable space.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“I have always been tormented by the image of multiplicity of selves. Some days I call it richness, and other days I see it as a disease, a proliferation as dangerous as cancer. My first concept about people around me was that all of them were coordinated into a WHOLE, whereas I was made up of a multitude of selves, of fragments.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“As June walked toward me from the darkness of the garden into the light of the door, I saw for the first time the most beautiful woman on earth. Astartling white face, burning dark eyes, a face so alive I felt it would consume itself before my eyes. Years ago I tried to imagine a true beauty; I created in my mind an image of just such a woman. I had never seen her until last night. Yet I knew long ago the phosphorescent color of her skin, her huntress profile, the evenness of her teeth. She is bizarre, fantastic, nervous, like someone in a high fever. Her beauty drowned me...

By the end of the evening I had extricated myself from her power. She killed my admiration by her talk. Her talk. The enormous ego, false, weak, posturing. She lacks the courage of her personality, which is sensual, heavy with experience. Her role alone preoccupies her. She invents drama in which she always stars. I am sure she creates genuine dramas, genuine chaos and whirlpools of feelings, but I feel that her share in it is a pose. That night, in spite of my response to her, she sought to be whatever she felt I wanted her to be. She is an actress every moment. I cannot grasp the core of June.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

“I said, "If there is an explanation of the mystery, it is this: the love between women is a refuge and an escape into harmony and narcissism in place of conflict.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin Volume 1 1931-1934

“If a person continues to see only giants, it means he is still looking at the world through the eyes of a child.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin Volume 1 1931-1934

“The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anais Nin Volume 1 1931-1934

“No one was ever born without that light or flame of life. Some event, some person stifles or drowns it altogether. I was always tempted to resuscitate such men by my own joyousness or luminosity.

When I break glasses in a night club, as the Russians do, when my unconscious breaks out in wild rebellions, it is against life which has crippled these idealistic, romantic men. I respect these men, cold, pure, faithful, devoted, moral, delicate, sensitive, and unequal to life, more than I respect the tough-minded ones who return three blows to one received, who kill those who hurt them.”
― Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934