#ss

The optimist proclaims that we live in the best of all possible worlds; and the pessimist fears this is true. ↗

— James Branch Cabell

#pessimism #true

I was beginning to see, though, that the unknown wasn't always the greatest thing to fear. The people who know you best can be risker, because the words they say and things they think have the potential to be not only scary but true, as well. ↗

— Sarah Dessen

#sarah-dessen #true

Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness? ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#loneliness #sadness #people

No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself. ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#reassuring #true #true

Do you ever feel that way?" "Lonely?" I search for the words. "Restless. As if you haven't really met yourself yet. As is you'd passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt - 'Ah! There I Am! I've been missing that piece!' But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it." He nods, and I think he's appeasing me. I feel stupid of having said it. It's sentimental and true, and I've revealed a part of myself I shouldn't have. "Do you know what I think?" Kartik says at last. "What?" "Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another. ↗

— Libba Bray

#found #gemma-doyle #kartik #lonely #lost

If you can't get what you want, you end up doing something else, just to get some relief. Just to keep from going crazy. Because when you're sad enough, you look for ways to fill you up. ↗

— Laura Pritchett

#crazy #laura #pritchett #sadness #sky

Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting. ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#future #past #possibilities #ticking #time

Put down everything that comes into your head and then you're a writer. But an author is one who can judge his own stuff's worth, without pity, and destroy most of it." (Casual Chance, 1964) ↗

— Colette

#editing #self-criticism #writing #chance

And I just couldn't take it anymore. I closed the distance between us, slammed him back against the chair and kissed him, holding his head still with both my hands buried in that stupid, stupid hair. I half expected more resistance, because Pritkin had never met an argument he didn't like. So it was a shock when he ran his hands down my sides, cupped my hips and slid us both to the floor. "I'm going straight to hell for this," he muttered. "At least you'll know a lot of people," I said breathlessly. ↗

— Karen Chance

#pritkin #chance

Footfalls echo in the memory, down the passage we did not take, towards the door we never opened, into the rose garden. ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#chance