Glimmer

“Margarita scanned the crowd coming up the stairs and found the woman Korovyov was pointing to. She was a young woman of about twenty, with an unusually stunning figure, but with agitated and insistent eyes.
"What handkerchief?" asked Margarita.
"She has a chambermaid assigned to her," explained Korovyov, "and every night for thirty years the maid has laid out a handkerchief for her on her night table. The minute she wakes up she sees it there. She's tried burning it in the stove and drowning it in the river, but nothing helps.
"What kind of handkerchief?" whispered Margarita, raising and lowering her hand.
"A handkerchief with a dark-blue border. The fact is that when she was a waitress in a cafe, her boss lured her into the storeroom one day, and nine months later she gave birth to a baby boy, carried him into the woods, stuffed the handkerchief in his mouth, and then buried him in the ground. At her trial she said she had nothing to feed the child."
"And where's the owner of the cafe?" asked Margarita.
"Your Majesty," squeaked the cat suddenly from below." Allow me to ask you: what does the owner have to do with this? he wasn't the one who smothered the baby in the woods!”
― Mikhail Bulgakov, The Master and Margarita / A Young Doctor's Notebook / The White Guard / A Dog's Heart

“Believe me, if you beheld on lips with grief one smile of joy and gratitude, and knew that you were parent of that smile and that without you it had never been, you would feel so pure and warm a happiness that you'd wish to live forever again and again to enjoy the same pleasure.”
― Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, Mathilda

“اجتمعت فيك الثلاث: ثائر و عاشق و شاعر”
― Yahya Al-Sinwar, الشوك والقرنفل

“Loving confers no rights”
― Iris Murdoch, The Sacred and Profane Love Machine