“—Nunca nos quisimos —le dijo besándola en el pelo. —No hablés por mí —dijo la Maga cerrando los ojos—. Vos no podés saber si yo te quiero o no. Ni siquiera eso podés saber. —¿ Tan ciego me creés?”
― Hopscotch
― Hopscotch
“Oh, Nastenka! You know, we thank some people for merely living at the same time as we do. I thank you for the fact that I met you, that I will remember you for all my life!”
― Белые ночи
― Белые ночи
“It is still this death which continues inside of me, which works in me, which transforms my heart, which deepens the red of my blood, which bears down heavily on the life that had been ours so that this death becomes a bittersweet drop coursing through my veins and permeating everything, and which ought to be mine forever.”
― The Dark Interval: Letters on Loss, Grief, and Transformation
― The Dark Interval: Letters on Loss, Grief, and Transformation
“I am very concerned
when I imagine how strangled and cut off you currently live, afraid of
touching anything that is filled with memories (and what is not filled with
memories?). You will freeze in place if you remain this way. You must not,
dear. You have to move. You have to return to his things. You have to touch
with your hands his things, which through their manifold relations and
affinity are after all also yours. You must, Sidie (this is the task that this
incomprehensible fate imposes upon you), you must continue his life inside
of yours insofar as it was unfinished; his life has now passed onto yours.
You, who quite truly knew him, can quite truly continue in his spirit and on
his path. Make it the task of your mourning to explore what he had expected
of you, had hoped for you, had wished to happen to you. If I could just
convince you, my dear friend, that his influence has not vanished from your
existence”
― The Dark Interval: Letters on Loss, Grief, and Transformation
when I imagine how strangled and cut off you currently live, afraid of
touching anything that is filled with memories (and what is not filled with
memories?). You will freeze in place if you remain this way. You must not,
dear. You have to move. You have to return to his things. You have to touch
with your hands his things, which through their manifold relations and
affinity are after all also yours. You must, Sidie (this is the task that this
incomprehensible fate imposes upon you), you must continue his life inside
of yours insofar as it was unfinished; his life has now passed onto yours.
You, who quite truly knew him, can quite truly continue in his spirit and on
his path. Make it the task of your mourning to explore what he had expected
of you, had hoped for you, had wished to happen to you. If I could just
convince you, my dear friend, that his influence has not vanished from your
existence”
― The Dark Interval: Letters on Loss, Grief, and Transformation
“If people took some simple pleasure in reality (which is entirely independent of time), they would never have needed to come up with the idea that they could ever again lose anything with which they had truly bonded. No constellation is as steadfast, no accomplishment as irrevocable as a connection between human beings which, at the very moment it becomes visible, works more forcefully in those invisible depths where our existence is as lasting as gold lodged in stone, more constant than a star.”
― The Dark Interval: Letters on Loss, Grief, and Transformation
― The Dark Interval: Letters on Loss, Grief, and Transformation
Rory Gilmore Book Club
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— last activity Nov 09, 2024 09:15AM
¡Bienvenidos al #RGBC! En este grupo estaremos discutiendo las lecturas que hagamos. Los libros que leeremos, estarán basados en las lecturas que hace ...more
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