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"Marcando a leitura c esperança de não ser mais uma q cai na maldição do marcado como leitura atual do goodreads (eu quase sempre largo os q eu resolvo atualizar por aqui)" — May 13, 2022 05:21AM

 
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James Baldwin
“Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death--ought to decide, indeed, to earn one's death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life. One is responsible for life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return.”
― James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

James Baldwin
“Hatred, which could destroy so much, never failed to destroy the man who hated, and this was an immutable law.”
― James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

F. Scott Fitzgerald
“How the unforgettable faces of dusk would blend to her, the myriad footsteps, a thousand overtures, would blend to her footsteps; and there would be more drunkenness than wine in the softness of her eyes on his.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise
tags: love

Frances de Pontes Peebles
“Beyond that kitchen and those cane fields was a world of possibilities that I could not fathom, but wanted to. I was awed by the avarice of that cane fire. It was beautiful in its constant need, in its unbridled hunger. I watched it burn, its heat pounding against my skin, and knew that we were alike, that fire and me. We wanted more than we'd been given, and we always would”
― Frances de Pontes Peebles, The Air You Breathe

Joan Didion
“It is the phenomenon somethings called "alienation from self." In its advanced stages, we no longer answer the telephone, because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game. Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the specter of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that answering it becomes out of the question. To assign unanswered letters their proper weight, to free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves - there lies the great, the singular power of self-respect. Without it, one eventually discovers the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, and finds no one at home.”
― Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

249116 Ink and Paper Blog — 654 members — last activity Jul 25, 2019 04:10PM
Hello Everyone - This group will focus on the topics that I bring up on my Booktube channel. Let's discuss books, books and more books. My YouTube C ...more
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