Similar Quote:
I could never forget you, Meggie, not as long as I live. And for my punishment I’m going to live a long, long time.
I know a planet where there is a certain red-faced gentleman. He has never smelled a flower.
He has never looked at a star.
He has never loved any one.
He has never done anything in his life but add up figures.
And all day he says over and over, just like you:
'I am busy with matters of consequence!'
And that makes him swell up with pride.
But he is not a man — he is a mushroom!
You need to have a life. Have fun. *Then* ruin it by having a serious relationship.
There were a lot of things I wanted to do. I wanted to become a teacher, and an astronaut, and a baker… I wanted to go to a bunch of different donut shops and ask for one of everything! And I wanted to tell the ice-cream man to give me one of everything, too! I wish I could have five different lives! Then I could have been born in five different towns, and eaten five lifetime’s worth of food, and had five different careers, and… fallen in love with the same person, five times. Thank you, Kurosaki-kun. Goodbye...
"Far away beyond the pine-woods there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold crystal moon looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the sleepers."
"You mean the Garden of Death."
"Yes, death. 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 to-morrow. To forget time, to forget life, to be at peace. You can help me. You can open for me the portals of death's house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is."
He’s always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.
My darling, I'm waiting for you. How long is a day in the dark? Or a week? The fire is gone now... and I'm horr — horribly cold. I really ought to drag myself outside, but then there'd be the sun. I'm afraid I waste the light... on the paintings and on writing these words. We die. We die. We die rich with lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed, bodies we have entered... and swum up like rivers. Fears we've hidden in, like this wretched cave. I want all this marked on my body. We're the real countries. Not the boundaries drawn on maps, the names of powerful men. I know you'll come and carry me out into the palace of winds. That's all I've wanted, to walk in such a place with you, with friends. An Earth without maps. The lamp's gone out, and I'm writing... in the darkness.