Salwa > Salwa's Quotes

“Even when we're right, we may be wrong. If--in the process of debate--we've hurt the heart of another being, it matters not whether we issued a perfectly executed unbroken chain of logic. In the end, that's an argument we've lost, because whatever we might have gained in intellectual pride, we surely lost in character.”
― Shakieb Orgunwall

“The human heart is the only thing whose worth increases the more it is broken.”
― Shakieb Orgunwall

“What people think of you is only what they think of themselves. They look at you and see the maladies, the faults they've been carrying within themselves for the longest time. And they identified each flaw they found exactly because of this familiarity and acquaintance with their very own symptoms. How else did they recognize them in you?”
― Shakieb Orgunwall

“We stare vacantly into our own future, frightened of all that time confiscates from us. We lament the theft of our beauty, youth, and loved-ones. And yet we somehow overlook the many ways in which we deprive ourselves: through anxiety and worry, we rob our hearts of peace and tranquility, as we sever the thin threads which tether us to the source of our creation.”
― Shakieb Orgunwall

“With some we’re certain our hearts must’ve been acquainted long before we have ever met them.”
― Shakieb Orgunwall

“A man is whole only when he takes into account his shadow.”
― Djuna Barnes

“The unendurable is the beginning of the curve of joy.”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood

“I have been loved,' she said, 'by something strange, and it has forgotten me.”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood

“Our bones ache only while the flesh is on them.”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood

“We are adhering to life now with our last muscle - the heart.”
― Djuna Barnes

“You beat the liver out of a goose to get a pâté; you pound the muscles of a man's cardia to get a philosopher.”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood

“To think is to be sick...”
― Djuna Barnes, Nightwood

“I like my human experience served up with a little silence and restraint. Silence makes experience go further and, when it does die, gives it that dignity common to a thing one had touched and not ravished.”
― Djuna Barnes

“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.”
― Robert Fulghum, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten: Uncommon Thoughts On Common Things

“Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“Some people see things that are and ask, Why?
Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not?
Some people have to go to work and don't have time for all that.”
― George Carlin

“No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing, the dreams that you wish will come true.”
― Walt Disney Company

“I used to think as I looked out on the Hollywood night — there must be thousands of girls sitting alone like me, dreaming of becoming a movie star. But I'm not going to worry about them. I'm dreaming the hardest.”
― Marilyn Monroe

“Ester asked why people are sad.
"That’s simple," says the old man. "They are the prisoners of their personal history. Everyone believes that the main aim in life is to follow a plan. They never ask if that plan is theirs or if it was created by another person. They accumulate experiences, memories, things, other people's ideas, and it is more than they can possibly cope with. And that is why they forget their dreams.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Zahir

“my beerdrunk soul is sadder than all the dead christmas trees of the world.”
― Charles Bukowski

“We don’t even ask happiness, just a little less pain.”
― Charles Bukowski

“great writers are indecent people
they live unfairly
saving the best part for paper.

good human beings save the world
so that bastards like me can keep creating art,
become immortal.
if you read this after I am dead
it means I made it.”
― Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last

“I often carry things to read
so that I will not have to look at
the people.”
― Charles Bukowski, The Last Night of the Earth Poems

“The problem was you had to keep choosing between one evil or another, and no matter what you chose, they sliced a little bit more off you, until there was nothing left. At the age of 25 most people were finished. A whole god-damned nation of assholes driving automobiles, eating, having babies, doing everything in the worst way possible, like voting for the presidential candidates who reminded them most of themselves. I had no interests. I had no interest in anything. I had no idea how I was going to escape. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn't understand. Maybe I was lacking. It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go.”
― Charles Bukowski

“Without literature, life is hell.”
― Charles Bukowski

“some moments are nice, some are
nicer, some are even worth
writing
about.”
― Charles Bukowski, War All the Time: Poems 1981 - 1984

“in that drunken place
you would
like to hand your heart to her
and say
touch it
but then
give it back.”
― Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last

“dogs and angels are not
very far apart”
― Charles Bukowski, The People Look Like Flowers at Last

“I was a man who thrived on solitude; without it I was like another man without food or water. Each day without solitude weakened me. I took no pride in my solitude; but I was dependent on it. The darkness of the
room was like sunlight to me.”
― Charles Bukowski, Factotum

“And yet women-good women--frightened me because they eventually wanted your soul, and what was left of mine, I wanted to keep.”
― Charles Bukowski, Women