Ikram > Ikram's Quotes

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  • #1
    Oscar Wilde
    “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
    Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan

  • #2
    Emily Brontë
    “Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I can not live without my life! I can not live without my soul!”
    Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

  • #3
    Charles Dickens
    “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.”
    Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

  • #4
    Vladimir Nabokov
    “Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.”
    Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

  • #5
    E. Lockhart
    “I wanted so much for us: a life free of constriction and prejudice. A life free to love and be loved.”
    E. Lockhart, We Were Liars

  • #6
    E. Lockhart
    “He was a person who couldn’t fake a smile but smiled often. He wrapped my wrists in white gauze and believed wounds needed
    attention. He wrote on his hands and asked me my thoughts. His mind was restless, relentless. He didn’t believe in God anymore and yet he still wished that God would help him.
    And now he was mine and I said we should not let our love be threatened.”
    E. Lockhart, We Were Liars

  • #7
    Ocean Vuong
    “I am writing because they told me to never start a sentence with because. But I wasn't trying to make a sentence—I was trying to break free. Because freedom, I am told, is nothing but the distance between the hunter and its prey.”
    Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

  • #8
    Sylvia Plath
    “I am inhabited by a cry.
    Nightly it flaps out
    Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #9
    Sylvia Plath
    “And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes
    Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #10
    Sylvia Plath
    “You do not do, you do not do
    Any more, black shoe
    In which I have lived like a foot
    For thirty years, poor and white,
    Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

    Daddy, I have had to kill you.
    You died before I had time―
    Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
    Ghastly statue with one grey toe
    Big as a Frisco seal”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #11
    Sylvia Plath
    “I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets.

    --from "Elm", written 19 April 1962”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #12
    Sylvia Plath
    “LADY LAZARUS

    I have done it again.
    One year in every ten
    I manage it--

    A sort of walking miracle, my skin
    Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
    My right foot

    A paperweight,
    My face a featureless, fine
    Jew linen.

    Peel off the napkin
    O my enemy.
    Do I terrify?--

    The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
    The sour breath
    Will vanish in a day.

    Soon, soon the flesh
    The grave cave ate will be
    At home on me

    And I a smiling woman.
    I am only thirty.
    And like the cat I have nine times to die.

    This is Number Three.
    What a trash
    To annihilate each decade.

    What a million filaments.
    The peanut-crunching crowd
    Shoves in to see

    Them unwrap me hand and foot--
    The big strip tease.
    Gentlemen, ladies

    These are my hands
    My knees.
    I may be skin and bone,

    Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
    The first time it happened I was ten.
    It was an accident.

    The second time I meant
    To last it out and not come back at all.
    I rocked shut

    As a seashell.
    They had to call and call
    And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

    Dying
    Is an art, like everything else.
    I do it exceptionally well.

    I do it so it feels like hell.
    I do it so it feels real.
    I guess you could say I've a call.

    It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
    It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
    It's the theatrical

    Comeback in broad day
    To the same place, the same face, the same brute
    Amused shout:

    'A miracle!'
    That knocks me out.
    There is a charge

    For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
    For the hearing of my heart--
    It really goes.

    And there is a charge, a very large charge
    For a word or a touch
    Or a bit of blood

    Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
    So, so, Herr Doktor.
    So, Herr Enemy.

    I am your opus,
    I am your valuable,
    The pure gold baby

    That melts to a shriek.
    I turn and burn.
    Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

    Ash, ash--
    You poke and stir.
    Flesh, bone, there is nothing there--

    A cake of soap,
    A wedding ring,
    A gold filling.

    Herr God, Herr Lucifer
    Beware
    Beware.

    Out of the ash
    I rise with my red hair
    And I eat men like air.

    -- written 23-29 October 1962”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #13
    Sylvia Plath
    “People or stars
    Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #14
    Sylvia Plath
    “I am terrified by this dark thing
    That sleeps in me;
    All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #15
    Sylvia Plath
    “I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
    to lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
    How free it is, you have no idea how free.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #16
    Sylvia Plath
    “Dying
    Is an art, like everything else.
    I do it exceptionally well.
    I do it so it feels like hell.
    I do it so it feels real.
    I guess you could say I have a call.”
    Sylvia Plath, Ariel

  • #17
    Stephen  King
    “As always, the blessed relief of starting, a feeling that was like falling into a hole filled with bright light.
    As always, the glum knowledge that he would not write as well as he wanted to write.
    As always the terror of not being able to finish, of accelerating into a brick wall.
    As always, the marvelous joyful nervy feeling of journey begun.”
    Stephen King, Misery



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