Scarlett

“Help me, I only have one life and that life is trickling through my fingers and serenely heading towards death and I can do nothing except watch my life ebb away with each passing moment, I am alone in the world, those who love me do not know me, those who know me fear me and I am miserable and impoverished and very soon I shall no longer know that I ever existed.”
― Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart

“The trouble with Rosina is she wants every man: Julius Caesar, Jesus Christ, Leonardo, Mozart, Wilamowitz, Mr Gladstone, D.H. Lawrence, Jimmy Carter--you name him, she wants him.”
― Iris Murdoch, The Sea, the Sea

“Joan Baez was a personality before she was entirely a person, and, like anyone to whom that happen, she is in a sense the hapless victim of what others have seen in her, written about her, wanted her to be and not to be. The roles assigned to her are various, but variations on a single theme. She is the Madonna of the disaffected. She is the pawn of the protest movement. She is the unhappy analysand. She is the singer who would not train her voice, the rebel who drives the Jaguar too fast, the Rima who hides with the bird and the deer. Above all, she is the girl who “feels” things, who has hung on to the freshness and pain of adolescence, the girl ever wounded, ever young. Now, at an age when the wounds begin to heal whether one wants them to or not, Joan Baez never leaves the Carmel Valley.”
― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

“But when I think 'tomorrow' there is a gap in my head, a blank - as if I were falling through emptiness. Tomorrow never comes.”
― Jean Rhys, Good Morning, Midnight