Sabrina

“I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2 a.m., gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.”
― Anna Peters

“Être seul est devenu une maladie honteuse. Pourquoi tout le monde fuit-il la solitude? Parce qu'elle oblige à penser.
De nos jours, Descartes n'écrirait plus: “Je pense donc je suis.” Il dirait: “Je suis seul donc je pense.” Personne ne veut la solitude, car elle laisse trop de temps pour réfléchir. Or plus on pense, plus on est intelligent, donc plus on est triste.”
― Frédéric Beigbeder, L'amour dure trois ans

“It's funny when you feel as if you don't want anything more in your life except to sleep, or else to lie without moving. That's when you can hear time sliding past you, like water running.”
― Jean Rhys, Voyage in the Dark

“For years, "Sorry, I don't speak French" has been the reflexive response of English-speaking Canadians to a request, a comment, or a greeting in the other official language. Part apology, part defiance, it is a declaration of the otherness. That is not me. I don't do that. The language barrier is her, at this counter, now.”
― Graham Fraser, Sorry, I Don't Speak French: Confronting the Canadian Crisis That Won't Go Away