01hebu

[01hebu]

“He had such a terrible yearning to love something again, and the dog was such a beautifully ugly dog.”

I Am Legend, Richard Matheson

[01hebu]

“Jesus watches from the wall,

But his face is cold as stone,

And if he loves me

As she tells me

Why do I feel so all alone?”

Carrie, Stephen King

[01hebu]

“Mercédès remained alone in that bare landscape, which had never appeared to her more arid, bounded by the vastness of the sea. Bathed in tears, like the madwoman whose painful story we have heard, she could be seen wandering continually around the little Catalan village, now pausing beneath the burning southern sun, standing motionless and silent as a statue, looking towards Marseille; now seated on the shore, listening to the moaning of the sea, as endless as her sorrow, and ceaselessly wondering if it would not be better to lean forward, sink beneath her own weight into the abyss and let herself be swallowed up, rather than to suffer all the cruel uncertainties of hopeless expectation.”

The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas

[01hebu]

“Nic is injecting drugs—shooting them into his arms, arms that not that long ago threw baseballs and built Lego castles, arms that wrapped around my neck when I carried his sleepy body in from the car at night.”

Beautiful Boy, David Sheff

[01hebu]

“The constellation of these impulses that we call love feels like a miracle. The miracles do not cancel out evil, but I accept evil in order to participate in the miraculous.”

Beautiful Boy, David Sheff

[01hebu]

“I see him as he is—frail, opaque, ill—my beloved son, my beautiful boy.

‘Everything,’ I say to him. ‘Everything.’”

Beautiful Boy, David Sheff

[01hebu]

“‘Death is the mother of beauty,’ said Henry.

‘And what is beauty?’

‘Terror.’

‘Well said,’ said Julian. ‘Beauty is rarely soft or consolatory.’”

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

[01hebu]

“But though I can digress with the best of them, I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive.”

The Secret History, Donna Tartt

[01hebu]

“If my dreams were hidden wishes, why couldn’t I dream of my mother the way I wanted? Why was it that whenever she appeared she was still sick, as if I could not remember her the way she’d been before? I wondered if my memory was stunted, if my dreams were consigned to the epoch of trauma, the image of my mother stuck where we had left off. Had I forgotten her when she was beautiful?”

Crying in H-Mart, Michelle Zauner

[01hebu]

“Anything to prevent us from sitting face-to-face over coffee and finally speaking the unavoidable two words: twenty years.”

Call Me By Your Name, André Acimen

[01hebu]

of course he's read the secret history!!

[01hebu]

“The Vietnamese I own is the one you gave me, the one whose diction and syntax reach only the second-grade level… Our mother tongue, then, is no mother tongue at all— but an orphan. Our Vietnamese a time capsule, a mark of where your education ended, ashed. Ma, to speak only in our mother tongue is to speak only partially in Vietnamese, but entirely in war.”

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

[01hebu]

“I sit, with all my theories, metaphors, and equations, Shakespeare and Milton, Barthes, Du Fu, and Homer, masters of death who can’t, at last, teach me how to touch my dead.”

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

[01hebu]

“To stay tender, the weight of your life cannot lean on your bones.”

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

[01hebu]

“Because I am your son, what I know of work I know equally of loss. And what I know of both I know of your hands. Their once supple contours I’ve never felt, the palms already calluses and blistered long before I was born, the. ruined further from three decades in factories and nail salons. Your hands are hideous— and I hate everything that made them that way. I hate how they are the wrecks and reckoning of a dream.”

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

[01hebu]

“The same questions echo through both of them: What sort of police officers can’t even look after their own daughter and sister? What sort of family can’t help one of their own to help herself? What sort of god makes a priest ill, and what sort of daughter doesn’t show up for the funeral?”

Anxious People, Fredrik Backman

[01hebu]

“We need to be allowed to convince ourselves that we’re more than the mistakes we made yesterday. That we are all of our next choices, too, all of our tomorrows.”

Anxious People, Fredrik Backman