jribax

[jribax]

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there. I did not die.

-- "Immortality", The Gypsy, Clare Harner Lyon, 1934

[jribax]

Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.

— The Second Coming, W.B. Yeats, 1989

[jribax]

Le vieux monde se meurt, le nouveau monde tarde à apparaître, et dans ce clair-obscur surgissent les monstres.

— Cahiers de prison, Antonio Gramsci , 1935

[jribax]

Better never means better for everyone. It always means worse for some.

— The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood, 1985

[jribax]

Do not look for healing

at the feet of those

who broke you

— Milk And Honey, Rupi Kaur, 2014

[jribax]

Toute la vie, on aime des gens qu'on ne connait jamais vraiment.

— Le Nouveau Nom, Elena Ferrante, 2013

[jribax]

We accept the reality with which we are presented.

— The Truman Show, 1998

[jribax]

Who in the rainbow can draw the line where the violet tint ends and the orange tint begins? Distinctly we see the difference of the colours, but where exactly does the one first blendingly enters into the other?

So is with sanity and insanity.

— Billy Budd, Sailor, Herman Melville, 1924

[jribax]

Beware the fury of a patient man.

— Absalom and Achitophel, John Dryden, 1681

[jribax]

I thought I wanted to be made of fairytale endings,

Where I’d never know what was real or a dream.

So I dreamt that I belonged to you,

Because I knew you’d keep me safe from big girl things

Giant spiders, natural disasters, and unnatural ones too.

I’ve never felt as safe as I have felt than in that cage with you.

But when I started to wake up I saw those gilded bars around us

And I couldn’t remember how it went in the dream...

Was I the bird? Or was I the cage?

Was I Myself? Or one of my mothers?

Was I safe? Or was I suffocating?

Because the bird is in a cage, and the cage is in a town,

and the town is made of blinding white flour and beautiful lies.

And maybe we can’t help the things we dream of anymore than we can help the stuff we’re made of.

Or maybe we can, if we can finally see the lies, and the town, and the cage we’re inside of.

We can see so many other things too.

We can see the door,

A way out,

And we can fly away.

— Little Fires Everywhere, "Find A Way" (1.08), 2020

[jribax]

how is it so easy for you to be kind to people he asked

milk and honey dripped from my lips as i answered

cause people have not been kind to me

— Milk And Honey, Rupi Kaur, 2014

[jribax]

Together, they would watch everything that was so carefully planned collapse, and they would smile at the beauty of destruction.

— The Book Thief, Markus Zusak, 2005

[jribax]

I fell in love like you go to sleep; slowly, and then all at once.

— The Fault in Our Stars, John Green, 2012

[jribax]

I have survived too much to go quietly

let a meteor take me

call the thunder for backup

my death will be grand

the land will crack

the sun will eat itself

— The Sun and Her Flowers, Rupi Kaur, 2017

[jribax]

You do not just wake up and become the butterfly.

— The Sun and Her Flowers, Rupi Kaur, 2017

[jribax]

Her eyes fill up with tears again and she closes them. Even in memory she will find this moment unbearably intense, and she's aware of this now, while it's happening. She has never believed herself fit to be loved by any person. But now she has a new life, of which this is the first moment, and even after many years have passed she will still think: yes, that was it, the beginning of my life.

— Normal People, Sally Rooney, 2018

[jribax]

Is the world such an evil place, that love should be indistinguishable from the basest and most abusive forms of violence?

Outside her breath rises in a fine mist and the snow keeps falling, like the ceaseless repetition of the same indefinitesimally small mistake.

— Normal People, Sally Rooney, 2018