"Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those."
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
"That was a long time ago, but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I realize I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the last twenty-six years".
-Khaled Hosseini, The kite runner
We heal up through being loved, and through loving others. We don't heal by forming a secret society of one - by assessing about the only other 'one' we might admit, and being doomed to disappointment.
Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?
In all the colours I expected love to be, it was not what I got . I thought love will be the dawn colours. The warmness of orange that at the end of the day being with your lover will ease the scars , the calmness of blue that doesn't matter how complicated the situation is we will get over it , the assurance of lavender that it will all heal, the sweetness of pink that no matter what love will make everything right and even the yellow that doesn't matter what at the end love will win, but for me love was the colour of silver. Too shinny and perfect from afar but from close it was the colour no one will choose. The colour of coldness, the colour which will left you numb. The colour which will leave you in the state of being non-committal.
- Carol Rifka Blunt | Tell the wolves I'm home
Here is my hand, he said Here is my hand that will not harm you.
— Louise Glück Epithalamium from "Descending Figure.”
Franz Kafka, The Diaries of Franz Kafka
"𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 , 𝒘𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏"
"𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆"
“What did my fingers do before they held him?"
-Sylvia plath