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Memórias do Subsolo
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Jan 07, 2026 05:52PM

 
As Coisas Que Voc...
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Mar 21, 2020 02:30PM

 
Milk and Honey
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by Rupi Kaur (Goodreads Author)
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  (page 28 of 226)
Oct 21, 2019 02:51PM

 
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Maeve Brennan
“It is necessary to find one's own way in New York. New York City is not hospitable. She is very big and she has no heart. She is not charming. She is not sympathetic. She is rushed and noisy and unkempt, a hard, ambitious, irresolute place, not very lively, and never gay. When she glitters she is very, very bright, and when she does not glitter she is dirty. New York does nothing for those of us who are inclined to love her except implant in our hearts a homesickness that baffles us until we go away from her, and then we realize why we are restless. At home or away, we are homesick for New York not because New York used to be better and not because she used to be worse but because the city holds us and we don't know why.”
Maeve Brennan

Bram Stoker
“We learn from failure, not from success!”
Bram Stoker, Dracula

John Updike
“The true New Yorker secretly believes that people living anywhere else have to be, in some sense, kidding.”
John Updike

Ayn Rand
“I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York's skyline. Particularly when one can't see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? And then people tell me about pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel. When I see the city from my window - no, I don't feel how small I am - but I feel that if a war came to threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and protect these buildings with my body.”
Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Truman Capote
“I love New York, even though it isn't mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.”
Truman Capote

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