Birgit Kühntopf

“It tasted somehow like orange and green and dizzyingly sweet, but like Birdie had said, not too sweet. The taste was so rich it made her lips pulse. It was different on different parts of her tongue---the tartness hit the tip, the sweetness tingled at the sides and at the back.”
― Jodi Lynn Anderson, Peaches

“Perhaps my best years are gone. When there was a chance of happiness. But I wouldn't want them back. Not with the fire in me now. No, I wouldn't want them back.”
― Samuel Beckett, Krapp's Last Tape & Embers

“When your trust has been betrayed, the only thing to do is live, learn and let go. Otherwise the betrayal done by another will turn into hate for them. But they will not feel this hate, it will only hurt you more, growing bigger and darker. So, live, learn and let go. By living, it means they did not hurt you so deep that you can not move forward. Learn, learn to not trust this person again, and to make more of a sound judgement in the future. Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means that you have let go of the pain it caused. And by not forgetting, you will learn and move forward from the betrayal of the past.”
― S.L. Vaden

“The radiant sun draws visitors from the cold climes of Scandinavia, Britain, and Germany, and lively tavernas and discotheques entice vacationers from Asia and the Americas. People come from all over the world to marvel at the breathtaking historical depth and breadth that greets the visitor at every turn. This very mix of nationalities is just the latest of the many waves that have washed upon the Greek Isles for millennia. As they have since ancient, seafaring times, the hospitable inhabitants of the Greek Isles welcome these strangers who come for the beaches and the antiquities--and leave with the gift of the joy of living.
As sunset gives way to the blanket of night, the modest lights of a thousand tiny villages twinkle and flicker as if mirroring the star-studded sky. Against the darkness, the columns and stones of ancient temples and theaters glow with a secret whiteness. Sipping a sweet and aromatic coffee, as a mandolin player strums an ancient melody and waves lap up against fishing boats moored for the night, it is easy to understand why the ancients believed these magical islands to be the birthplace of the gods.”
― Laura Brooks, Greek Isles