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“I kept thinking about the uneven quality of time--the way it was almost always so empty, and then with no warning came a few days that felt so dense and alive and real that it seemed indisputable that that was what life was, that its real nature had finally been revealed. But then time passed and unthinkably grew dead again, and it turned out that that fullness had been an aberration and might never come back.”
― Elif Batuman, The Idiot

“Something’s died in me,” she goes. “It took a long time for it to do it, but it’s dead. You’ve killed something, just like you’d took an axe to it. Everything is dirt now.”
― Raymond Carver, What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

“There is no democracy in any love relation: only mercy.”
― Gillian Rose, Love's Work: A Reckoning with Life

“After all, in the final analysis, man is a cause.”
― Ghassan Kanafani, Palestine's Children: Returning to Haifa and Other Stories