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One Hundred Years...
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  (page 82 of 422)
Jan 24, 2023 11:51PM

 
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J.R.R. Tolkien
“Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

Roland Barthes
“Freud to his fiancée: " The only thing that makes me suffer is being in a situation where it is impossible for me to prove my love to you"
Gide: " Everything in her behaviour seemed to say: Since he no longer loves me, nothing matters to me. Now, I still loved her, and in fact I had never loved her so much; but it was no longer possible for me to prove it to her. That was much the worst thing of all”
Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse: Fragments

Daniel Derrick Mwesigye
“She is a jar of honey

How do you carry such sweetness?
Without being noticed
By the bees that made it!
No you don't;
You just hold it gently
So that it doesn't spill any honey
To attract flies...
That is how you love a girl
And enjoy her grow up
Into a wonderful woman.”
Daniel Derrick Mwesigye, Altar of love: Psalms of a lovestruck poet

Paulo Coelho
“At this moment, many people have stopped living. They do not become angry, nor cry out; they merely wait for time to pass. They did not accept the challenges of life, so life no longer challenges them”
Paulo Coelho, The Fifth Mountain

Fernando Pessoa
“To write is to forget. Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life. Music soothes, the visual arts exhilarates, the performing arts (such as acting and dance) entertain. Literature, however, retreats from life by turning in into slumber. The other arts make no such retreat— some because they use visible and hence vital formulas, others because they live from human life itself.
This isn't the case with literature. Literature simulates life. A novel is a story of what never was, a play is a novel without narration. A poem is the expression of ideas or feelings a language no one uses, because no one talks in verse.”
Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

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