Clementine

“It was then that the touching vision of a forehead, of certain eyes, of a face began to haunt and pursue me, forming my desires. That face lingered for many days and many nights before taking shape. The truth is: I had the burning desire to be a saint. I vehemently wished for the face to be God’s or that of the infant Jesus. In church, in etchings, in books, and in medallions I searched for that adorable face: I didn’t want to find it anywhere else, didn’t want it to be human, or contemporary, or true. I don’t think anyone has ever had so much trouble recognizing the danger signs of love. How I gave in to my adolescent tears! Only now can I remember the light yet penetrating aroma of the roses Gabriel gave me, while gazing into my eyes, as we left school. That prescience would have lasted a whole lifetime.”
― Silvina Ocampo, Thus Were Their Faces

“I was clean straight uncompromising. No cheating: I’ve had that in my bones since I was a child.”
― Simone de Beauvoir, The Woman Destroyed

“If he could have it his way, nobody would ever say anything again. The entire world would go silent. Even the clocks wouldn’t tick. All that mattered would be the beating of hearts, the widening and narrowing of pupils, the whirling of ties and loose strands of hair in the wind—nothing voluntary, nothing false.”
― Ottessa Moshfegh, The Beach Boy

“Lying on the grass outside a tennis arena, he held my face toward the sun, stared sideways at my eyeballs, and began to cry. He told me I was the sign he’d been waiting for and, like looking into a crystal ball, he’d just read a private message from God in the silvery vortex of my left pupil.”
― Ottessa Moshfegh, The Weirdos