“I was very grateful to have heard it again. Because I guess we all forget sometimes. And I think everyone is special in their own way. I really do.”— Stephen Chbosky, amazon.com
“I want to feel all there is to feel, he though. Let me feel tired now. I mustn’t forget, I’m alive, I know I’m alive. I mustn’t forget it tonight or tomorrow or the day after that.”— Ray Bradbury, amazon.com
“Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever…”— Cormac McCarthy, amazon.com
“When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.”— Friedrich Nietzsche, goodreads.com
“Every morning, I wake up and forget just for a second that it happened. But once my eyes open, it buries me like a landslide of sharp, sad rocks. Once my eyes open, I’m heavy, like there’s too much gravity on my heart.”— Sarah Ockler, amazon.com
“You’re still the green-grey eyes, the laugh that warms me. You’re still the unbrushed hair. And I promise I’ll run my fingers through the tangles. Promise I’ll kiss every lonely strand, every broken follicle. Until you can taste the forever on my lips.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“I called you last night. Because I saw the picture, because I wanted to know if your voice still sounded like Saturday mornings with closed blinds, an old truck with the windows down on the highway in the sticky-hot Western sun. Yes, you did. Your voice brought me to all the places I’d been searchin…”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“Maybe we’ll always be connected across the expanse of space and sky, and when I lift my head from the pillow, you’ll feel my energy too. You’ll wonder why you’ve felt so restless ever since I left.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“Our connection is paper thin—or, like sutures, weaving through the sinews of my heart, stitching fragments of you to me, of me to you to your chest cavity, laying claim, filling those hollow spaces, making you whole so you won’t miss me, haven’t missed me since I’ve been gone.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“I wonder if you know I still think about you every time I drive the gravel backroad where we first kissed, electricity between us sparking white against that night sky like fireflies.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“you were the only man who made me believe even those born to run might learn to slow down.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“You will always remind me of late nights on I-35, Three Musketeers bars melting chocolate all over my fingers and you laughing, leaning in to kiss the sweetness from my lips.”— Marisa Donnelly, tcat.tc
“The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful.”— Milan Kundera, amazon.com
“The Past, then, is a constant accumulation of images. It can be easily contemplated and listened to, tested and tasted at random, so that it ceases to mean the orderly alternation of linked events that it does in the large theoretical sense.”— Vladimir Nabokov, amazon.com