Simone De Beauvoir, From A Diary Entry Featured In Diary Of A Philosophy Student

You didn't even ask how I was. You nuked me with emotions that targetted even my hidden bunkers of peace that previously suffered a quake not hours before. You chose the right time for war. Now who will ask how I am?

One day, these memories will creep out my eyes and leave traces as it touches my cheeks with cold hands.

Nikos Kazantzakis, from a letter featured in The Selected Letters of Nikos Kazantzakis

Text me when the ache of my absence stirs your heart.

I'll leave you for now, won't ask what that's about. But I'll wait for a recall. Remember me in the midst of it all.

// J. W. Goethe

What will I do with all my wishes if I can't wish for you?

Margaret Atwood, “The Blind Assassin.”

M.S. (via coffee-crinkled-pages)