Rosie

“Maybe I'll have a tumour like his someday. At first it will be a small but growing sphere that will branch out, growing larger in my stomach like a fetus. I will probably feel it when it starts to take motion, moving inward with the fury of a sleepwalking child, traveling through my intestines blindly -”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Collected Stories

“You are a door to an existence she does not desire, but even if the room beyond is repugnant, that door has won a portion of her affection.”
― Mohsin Hamid, How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia

“With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can't start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It's like quicksand...hopeless from the start. A story, a picture, can renew sensation a little, but not enough, not enough. Nothing is real except the present, and already, I feel the weight of centuries smothering me. Some girl a hundred years ago once lived as I do. And she is dead. I am the present, but I know I, too, will pass. The high moment, the burning flash, come and are gone, continuous quicksand. And I don't want to die.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“Fear had absorbed her completely and remained there, fixed, tenacious, almost corporeal, as if it were some invisible person who had made up his mind not to leave the room. And the most upsetting part was that the fear had no justification at all, that it was a unique fear, without any reason, a fear just because.”
― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Collected Stories