Marian

“Se vor gândi că și-au sacrificat prezentul pentru un viitor care, la rândul său, avea să devină prezent și care, la rându-i, avea să fie sacrificat pentru un alt viitor și tot așa până la ultimul prezent, până la moarte. Întreaga valoare a lui Azi rezida în Mâine, iar Mâinele conta doar pentru un alt Mâine și astfel sosea și ultimul Azi, Azi-ul definitiv, și-așa trecea toată viața pentru a pregăti, zi după zi, ceas după ceas, clipă după clipă, ceva care nu vine niciodată. Și ei vor descoperi adevărul acesta cumplit: că viitorul nu există ca viitor, că viitorul nu este decât o invenție și o parte a prezentului, iar faptul de a îndura existența agitată, viața tristă, viața nefericită, pentru acest viitor care îți scapă și se îndepărtează cu fiecare zi, este cea mai dureroasă tâmpenie din existența aceasta atât de stupidă.”
― Giovanni Papini, Strane storie

“I want to live my life in such a way that when I get out of bed in the morning, the devil says, "aw shit, he's up!”
― Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

“Make your own dream.

That's the Beatles' story, isn't it? That's Yoko's story, that's what I'm saying now. Produce your own dream. If you want to save Peru, go save Peru. It's quite possible to do anything, but not to put it on the leaders and the parking meters. Don't expect Jimmy Carter or Ronald Reagan or John Lennon or Yoko Ono or Bob Dylan or Jesus Christ to come and do it for you. You have to do it yourself.

That's what the great masters and mistresses have been saying ever since time began. They can point the way, leave signposts and little instructions in various books that are now called holy and worshipped for the cover of the book and not for what it says, but the instructions are all there for all to see, have always been and always will be.

There's nothing new under the sun. All the roads lead to Rome. And people cannot provide it for you. I can't wake you up. You can wake you up. I can't cure you. You can cure you.”
― John Lennon

“Fat’ is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she wants to hurt her.

I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me; but then, you might retort, what do I know about the pressure to be skinny? I’m not in the business of being judged on my looks, what with being a writer and earning my living by using my brain…

I went to the British Book Awards that evening. After the award ceremony I bumped into a woman I hadn’t seen for nearly three years. The first thing she said to me? ‘You’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw you!’

‘Well,’ I said, slightly nonplussed, ‘the last time you saw me I’d just had a baby.’

What I felt like saying was, ‘I’ve produced my third child and my sixth novel since I last saw you. Aren’t either of those things more important, more interesting, than my size?’ But no – my waist looked smaller! Forget the kid and the book: finally, something to celebrate!

I’ve got two daughters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.”
― J.K. Rowling