Mahsa Sh

“A person does not belong to a place until there is someone dead under the ground.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

“Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,
And burnt the topless towers of Ilium--
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.--
''[kisses her]''
Her lips suck forth my soul: see, where it flies!--
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.
I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy, shall Wertenberg be sack'd;
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colours on my plumed crest;
Yea, I will wound Achilles in the heel,
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
O, thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter
When he appear'd to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azur'd arms;
And none but thou shalt be my paramour!”
― Christopher Marlowe, Dr. Faustus

“False. Everything by which you have lived and live now is all a deception, a lie, concealing both life and death from you.”
― Leo Tolstoy, The Death of Ivan Ilych

“Dacă pronunți cuvântul MOARTE într-un spital, nimeni nu aude. E sigur că se lasă tăcerea și-apoi se schimbă subiectul.”
― Éric-Emmanuel Schmitt, Oscar et la dame rose