Mariam

“At seven o’clock Ivan got into the train and set off to
Moscow. ‘Away with the past. I’ve done with the old
world for ever, and may I have no news, no echo, from it.
To a new life, new places, and no looking back!’ But
instead of delight his soul was filled with such gloom, and
his heart ached with such anguish, as he had never known
in his life before. He was thinking all the night. The train
flew on, and only at daybreak, when he was approaching
Moscow, he suddenly roused himself from his meditation.
‘I am a scoundrel,’ he whispered to himself.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“What shall I tell you of the years that ensued? You know well the recent history of this beleaguered country. I need not to rehash for you those dark days. I tire at the mere thought of writing it, and, besides, the suffering of this country has already been sufficiently chronicled, and by pens far more learned and eloquent than mine.
I can sum it up in one word: war. Or rather, wars. Not one, not two, but many wars, both big and small, just and unjust, wars with shifting casts of supposed heroes and villains, each new hero making one increasingly nostalgic for the old villain.”
― Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed

“Der Himmel bewölkt sich. Und da ist auch wieder meine Angst, da, tief in mir drin, wie eine böse Wunde, die bei jeder Bewegung schmerzt. Ich weiß, wie sie heißt. Das ist die Angst vor der ewigen Einsamkeit, die Furcht, dass es vielleicht keine Antwort gibt.”
― Camus Albert

“Dar de ce te nelinişteşte plecarea mea?
Mai avem încă timp berechet până atunci. O eternitate întreagă,nemurirea!
— Ce fel de eternitate dacă pleci mâine?”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky