Ana Dulan

“When we mourn those who die young – those who have been robbed of time – we weep for lost joys. We weep for opportunities and pleasure we ourselves have never known. We feel sure that somehow that young body would have known the yearning delight for which we searched in vain all our lives. We believe that the untried soul, trapped in its young prison, might have flown free and known the joy that we still seek. We say that life is sweet, its satisfactions deep. All this we say, as we sleepwalk our time through years of days and nights. We let time cascade over us like a waterfall, believing it to be never-ending. Yet each day that touches us, and every man in the world, is unique; irredeemable; over. And just another Monday.”
― Josephine Hart, Damage

“Was my sin basically one of untruthfulness? Or, more likely, one of cowardice? But the liar knows the truth. The coward knows his fear and runs away.”
― Josephine Hart, Damage

“The day then trapped me in its iron bars of phone calls and meetings, letters to read, letters to write, decisions to make, promises to break.”
― Josephine Hart, Damage

“The passion that transforms life, and art, did not seem to be mine. But in all essentials, my life was a good performance.”
― Josephine Hart, Damage