Matylda

“When you have arrived at the thing itself, then all you can do is compare it to something else you don't understand. A rock. A crow. The only things that remain themselves are the ones you can never reach. The things that are too big or too far away or move too slowly to detect. Smooth. Feathered. Loved. Already lost. They will always be only what they really are, and you will never know what name to call out to them.

I am in the ocean. I am on the shore. I am trying to remember or to see.

The space between me and me is you. This is a mystery.”
― Anne de Marcken, It Lasts Forever and Then It's Over

“And I could do it: I became myself, so I could become something else. So I could become the room, become the man, become the shadows and damp air, adopt the whole drama as my own. I could orient my desires, shape them into what I needed them to be. I reached inside myself, through the flesh and bone, and somewhere in there was the black pocket of my heart, and deep inside, so deep I had to really look for it, was an ability to want.”
― Nour Abi-Nakhoul, Supplication

“I close my eyes and try to breathe but the end of the world is in my throat.”
― Anne de Marcken, It Lasts Forever and Then It's Over

“I think, scathed as you look, and charred and scorched, there must be a little sense of life in you yet, rising out of that adhesion at the faithful, honest roots: you will never have green leaves more – never more see birds making nests and singing idyls in your boughs; the time of pleasure and love is over with you: but you are not desolate: each of you has a comrade to sympathise with him in his decay.”
― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre