Najada Zylyftari > Recent Status Updates

"Sophia, my dear, you have one imperfection which you must overcome if you wish to be a truly happy woman. You have to learn to say 'No? Enough with always trying to please everyone, enough with trying to satisfy everything and everyone. 'No, 'No, and again
'No.' You still don't know how to say that word, and this is a serious drawback.⬇️

A fairy tale loses its magic without real life, and the opposite is true, too. The most beautiful thing is to be able to walk in between, without ever having to forgo either the one or the other.

Lufta për shpëlarjen e trurit të njeriut ishte një ndërmarrje titanike. Në qoftë se nuk do të zhdukeshin burimet që e ushqenin dhe e mprihnin mekanizmin, kjo luftë do të ishte po aq e kotë, sa përpjekja për të tharë një liqen, pa shterur më parë rrjedhjen e ujërave në të.

Somewhere after being sorry, there had to be another day, and even after a conviction, there could be good in the judgment.

Strange mind of man! that, with our species upon the edge of extermination or appalling degradation, with no clear prospect before us but the chance of a horrible death, we could sit following the chance of this painted pasteboard, and playing the "joker" with vivid delight.

Perhaps I am a man of exceptional moods. I do not know how far my experience is common. At times I suffer from the strangest sense of detachment from myself and the world about me; I seem to watch it all from the outside, from some- where inconceivably remote, out of time, out of space, out of the stress and tragedy of it all.

Caring too much for objects can destroy you. Only—if you care for a thing enough, it takes on a life of its own, doesn't it? And isn't the whole point of things-beautiful things that they connect you to some larger beauty? Those first images that crack your heart wide open and you spend the rest of your life chasing, or trying to recapture, in one way or another?

For humans-trapped in biology-there was no mercy: we lived a while, we fussed around for a bit and died, we rotted in the ground like garbage. Time destroyed us all soon enough. But to destroy, or lose, a deathless thing-to break bonds stronger than the temporal—was a metaphysical uncoupling all its own, a startling new flavor of despair.

To understand the world at all, sometimes you could only focus on a tiny bit of it, look very hard at what was close to hand and make it stand in for the whole…

But depression wasn't the word. This was a plunge encompassing sorrow and revulsion far beyond the personal: a sick, drenching nausea at all humanity and human endeavor from the dawn of time. The writhing loathsomeness of the biological order. Old age, sickness, death. No escape for anyone. Even the beautiful ones were like soft fruit about to spoil.

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