Joana Augusto

“The Portuguese call it saudade: a longing for something so indefinite as to be indefinable. Love affairs, miseries of life, the way things were, people already dead, those who left and the ocean that tossed them on the shores of a different land — all things born of the soul that can only be felt.”
― Anthony De Sa, Barnacle Love

“Every concert pianist knows that the surest way to ruin a performance is to be aware of what the fingers are doing. Every dancer and acrobat knows enough to let the mind go, let the body run itself. Every driver of a manual vehicle arrives at destinations with no recollection of the stops and turns and roads traveled in getting there. You are all sleepwalkers, whether climbing creative peaks or slogging through some mundane routine for the thousandth time. You are all sleepwalkers.”
― Peter Watts, Blindsight

“The white horse and the black one wheeled like lovers at a harvest dance, the riders throwing steel in place of kisses.”
― George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

“A minha memoria move-se em circulos, espirais e saltos de trapezista.”
― Isabel Allende