Divyanshi Dash

“Still. Something is missing. Something is off. So, how fucking spoiled am I, then? How fucking broken? What is wrong with me that I can have everything I could ever want and have ever asked for and still wake up in the morning feeling like every day is a slog?”
― Becky Chambers, A Psalm for the Wild-Built

“And we didn’t know what to do with our love, either; it was so heavy.”
― Andrés Barba, Such Small Hands

“It seems to me, maybe for the first time, that there are varying degrees of dead. Like there are varying degrees of everything: of being alive, of being in love, of being committed, of being sure.”
― Iain Reid, I'm Thinking of Ending Things

“Suddenly there were hands that we didn’t recognize, and we became strangers.”
― Andrés Barba, Such Small Hands