Christopher Waller

“Philosophy appears to concern itself only with the truth, but perhaps expresses only fantasies, while literature appears to concern itself only with fantasies, but perhaps it expresses the truth.”
― Antonio Tabucchi, Pereira Maintains

“There was Wang Qiyao in her autumn coat, her hair blown about by the wind as she tightly clutched her lambskin purse. Her eyes were fixed ahead, as if she was searching for something… this chance encounter filled him with despair. It was a scene emblematic of a chaotic world, one snapshot in a life that was flying past.”
― Wang Anyi, The Song of Everlasting Sorrow: A Novel of Shanghai

“The tramcar would have gone on forever, if the city hadn't been shut down. It was. The streets were sealed off. "Ding-dingding-ding" rang the bell. Each "ding" was a small, cold dot: dot after dot, they formed a line that cut through space and time.”
― Zhang Ailing

“Each of our friends has his defects so markedly that to continue to love him we are obliged to seek consolation for those defects -- in the thought of his talent, his goodness, his affection for ourself -- or rather to leave them out of account, and for that we need to display all our good will. Unfortunately our obliging obstinacy in refusing to see the defect in our friend is surpassed by the obstinacy with which he persists in that defect, from his own blindness to it or the blindness that he attributes to other people. For he does not notice it himself, or imagines that it is not noticed.”
― Marcel Proust (Translator: C K Scott Moncrieff)