"I can’t stand to think my life is going so fast and I’m not really living it."
"Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
"I don’t want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again."
"I like the sea: we understand one another. It is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; and so am I."
"Of course I am not worried about intimidating men. The type of man who will be intimidated by me is exactly the type of man I have no interest in."
"I am not sure that I exist, actually. I am all the writers that I have read, all the people that I have met, all the women that I have loved; all the cities I have visited."
"But I don’t want comfort. I want poetry. I want danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin."
"She gave me back the ring. And that evening, even if there were other vacillations later on, I learned that I had lost her and that I had arranged to lose her without wanting to, but that was even worse than doing it on purpose—it was the cleanest, most surgical strike I could make."
"It is what you read when you don’t have to that determines what you will be when you can’t help it."
"I swear to you gentlemen, that to be overly conscious is a sickness, a real, thorough sickness."
— Fyodor Dostoevsky, “Notes from Underground”
"To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with."
— Mark Twain. (This is how I feel about traveling. I enjoy traveling alone, but I’d enjoy traveling even more if David would ever take the time off to do so. I’ve been trying to drag him to New Zealand or Ireland for years now. Screw it, I’m visiting Mexico with Cristian.)