“When small drops began to fall and darken the world in penny-shaped circles, no one around him scurried for cover. For lonely people, rain is a chance to be touched.”
--Simon Van Booy, 'The Secret Lives of People in Love: Stories'
"Language is like looking at a map of somewhere. Love is living there and surviving on the land."
--Simon Van Booy
"When obliged to exert myself, I am ignorant what to do! when forced to speak, I am at a loss for words; and if any one looks at me, I am instantly out of countenance. If animated with my subject, I express my thoughts with ease, but, in ordinary conversations, I can say nothing- absolutely nothing; and, being obliged to speak, renders them insupportable."
--The Confessions of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Book 1.
"What if a demon were to creep after you one night, in your loneliest loneliness, and say, this life which you live must be lived by you once again and innumerable times more; and every pain and joy and thought and sigh must come again to you, all in the same sequence. The eternal hourglass will again and again be turned and you with it, dust of the dust! Would you throw yourself down and gnash your teeth and curse that demon? Or would you answer, never have I heard anything more divine?"
“She’s never where she is,” I said. “She’s only inside her head.”
“Thus inevitably does the universe wear our color, and every object fall successively into the subject itself. The subject exists, the subject enlarges; all things sooner or later fall into place. As I am, so I see; use what language we will, we can never say anything but what we are.”
“Why do I torture myself by keeping it all a big secret?”
--Helga G. Pataki
“You grow up readin’ about pirates and cowboys and spacemen and stuff, and jus’ when you think the world’s all full of amazin’ things, they tell you it’s really all dead whales and chopped-down forests and nucular waste hangin’ about for millions of years.”
--Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, 'Good Omens'
Once a year, she remembers that she is insignificant. Then she forgets again, because more than she is insignificant, she is forgetful.
"Isolation has carved me in its image and likeness. The presence of another person - of any person whatsoever - instantly slows down my thinking, and while for a normal man contact with others is a stimulus to spoken expression and wit, for me it is a counterstimulus, if this compound word be linguistically permissible. When all by myself, I can think of all kinds of clever remarks, quick comebacks to what no one said, and flashes of witty sociability with nobody. But all of this vanishes when I face someone in the flesh: I lose my intelligence, I can no longer speak, and after half an hour I just feel tired. Yes, talking to people makes me feel like sleeping. Only my ghostly and imaginary friends, only the conversations I have in my dreams, are genuinely real and substantial, and in them intelligence gleams like an image in a mirror.”
--Bernardo Soares, 'The Book of Disquiet' - Entry 49
“I hate listening to people’s dreams. It’s like flipping through a stack of photographs. If I’m not in any of them, and nobody’s having sex, I just… don’t care.”
--'It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia'
“To understand me, you’ll have to swallow a world.”
"I don't think I'm tangible to myself. I mean, I think one thing today and I think another thing tomorrow. I change during the course of a day. I wake up and I'm one person, and when I go to sleep I know for certain I'm somebody else. I don't know who I am most of the time. It doesn't even matter to me."