Stephanie > Stephanie's Quotes

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  • #1
    Jack Kerouac
    “[...]the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”
    Jack Kerouac, On the Road

  • #2
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise

  • #3
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart.”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

  • #4
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “If I knew words enough, I could write the longest love letter in the world and never get tired”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Best Early Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald

  • #5
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

  • #6
    F. Scott Fitzgerald
    “I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.”
    F. Scott Fitzgerald

  • #7
    Yann Martel
    “I must say a word about fear. It is life's only true opponent. Only fear can defeat life. It is a clever, treacherous adversary, how well I know. It has no decency, respects no law or convention, shows no mercy. It goes for your weakest spot, which it finds with unnerving ease. It begins in your mind, always ... so you must fight hard to express it. You must fight hard to shine the light of words upon it. Because if you don't, if your fear becomes a wordless darkness that you avoid, perhaps even manage to forget, you open yourself to further attacks of fear because you never truly fought the opponent who defeated you.”
    Yann Martel, Life of Pi

  • #8
    Pablo Neruda
    “I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”
    Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

  • #9
    Pablo Neruda
    “I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
    in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
    Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

  • #10
    Pablo Neruda
    “Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”
    Pablo Neruda, Love: Ten Poems

  • #11
    Pablo Neruda
    “Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #12
    Pablo Neruda
    “I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
    Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
    Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
    I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.

    I hunger for your sleek laugh,
    your hands the color of a savage harvest,
    hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
    I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.

    I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
    the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
    I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,

    and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
    hunting for you, for your hot heart,
    Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #13
    Pablo Neruda
    “I want
    To do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”
    Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

  • #14
    Pablo Neruda
    “Sonnet XVII

    I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
    or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
    I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
    in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

    I love you as the plant that never blooms
    but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
    thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
    risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

    I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
    I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
    so I love you because I know no other way than this:

    where I does not exist, nor you,
    so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
    so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. ”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #15
    Pablo Neruda
    “But I love your feet
    only because they walked
    upon the earth and upon
    the wind and upon the waters,
    until they found me.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #16
    Pablo Neruda
    “so I wait for you like a lonely house
    till you will see me again and live in me.
    Till then my windows ache.”
    Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets

  • #17
    Pablo Neruda
    “I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #18
    Pablo Neruda
    “You are like nobody since I love you.”
    pablo neruda

  • #19
    Pablo Neruda
    “As if you were on fire from within.

    The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #20
    Pablo Neruda
    “You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep Spring from coming.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #21
    Pablo Neruda
    “If You Forget Me

    I want you to know
    one thing.

    You know how this is:
    if I look
    at the crystal moon, at the red branch
    of the slow autumn at my window,
    if I touch
    near the fire
    the impalpable ash
    or the wrinkled body of the log,
    everything carries me to you,
    as if everything that exists,
    aromas, light, metals,
    were little boats
    that sail
    toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

    Well, now,
    if little by little you stop loving me
    I shall stop loving you little by little.

    If suddenly
    you forget me
    do not look for me,
    for I shall already have forgotten you.

    If you think it long and mad,
    the wind of banners
    that passes through my life,
    and you decide
    to leave me at the shore
    of the heart where I have roots,
    remember
    that on that day,
    at that hour,
    I shall lift my arms
    and my roots will set off
    to seek another land.

    But
    if each day,
    each hour,
    you feel that you are destined for me
    with implacable sweetness,
    if each day a flower
    climbs up to your lips to seek me,
    ah my love, ah my own,
    in me all that fire is repeated,
    in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
    my love feeds on your love, beloved,
    and as long as you live it will be in your arms
    without leaving mine.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #22
    Pablo Neruda
    “Love.

    Because of you, in gardens of blossoming
    Flowers I ache from the perfumes of spring.
    I have forgotten your face, I no longer
    Remember your hands; how did your lips
    Feel on mine?

    Because of you, I love the white statues
    Drowsing in the parks, the white statues that
    Have neither voice nor sight.

    I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice;
    I have forgotten your eyes.

    Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to
    My vague memory of you. I live with pain
    That is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
    Make to me an irreperable harm.

    Your caresses enfold me, like climbing
    Vines on melancholy walls.

    I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to
    Glimpse you in every window.

    Because of you, the heady perfumes of
    Summer pain me; because of you, I again
    Seek out the signs that precipitate desires:
    Shooting stars, falling objects.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #23
    Pablo Neruda
    “my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping
    but
    I shall go on living.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #24
    Pablo Neruda
    “It was at that age
    that poetry came in search of me.”
    Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

  • #25
    Pablo Neruda
    “Love! Love until the night collapses!”
    Pablo Neruda, Machu Picchu
    tags: love

  • #26
    Pablo Neruda
    “I got lost in the night, without the light
    of your eyelids, and when the night surrounded me
    I was born again: I was the owner of my own darkness.”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #27
    Pablo Neruda
    “Take bread away from me, if you wish,
    take air away, but
    do not take from me your laughter.

    Do not take away the rose,
    the lance flower that you pluck,
    the water that suddenly
    bursts forth in joy,
    the sudden wave
    of silver born in you.

    My struggle is harsh and I come back
    with eyes tired
    at times from having seen
    the unchanging earth,
    but when your laughter enters
    it rises to the sky seeking me
    and it opens for me all
    the doors of life.

    My love, in the darkest
    hour your laughter
    opens, and if suddenly
    you see my blood staining
    the stones of the street,
    laugh, because your laughter
    will be for my hands
    like a fresh sword.

    Next to the sea in the autumn,
    your laughter must raise
    its foamy cascade,
    and in the spring, love,
    I want your laughter like
    the flower I was waiting for,
    the blue flower, the rose
    of my echoing country.

    Laugh at the night,
    at the day, at the moon,
    laugh at the twisted
    streets of the island,
    laugh at this clumsy
    fool who loves you,
    but when I open
    my eyes and close them,
    when my steps go,
    when my steps return,
    deny me bread, air,
    light, spring,
    but never your laughter. ”
    Pablo Neruda

  • #28
    Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
    “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
    and rightdoing there is a field.
    I'll meet you there.

    When the soul lies down in that grass
    the world is too full to talk about.”
    Rumi

  • #29
    Jack Gilbert
    “I dream of lost vocabularies that might express some of what we no longer can.”
    Jack Gilbert, The Great Fires

  • #30
    Czesław Miłosz
    “The purpose of poetry is to remind us
    how difficult it is to remain just one person,
    for our house is open, there are no keys in the doors,
    and invisible guests come in and out at will.”
    Czeslaw Milosz



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