Vous voyez bien que c'est mourir presque au moment que l'on est né; notre existence est un point, notre durée un instant, notre globe un atome. Pour moi, je n'ose faire aucuns projets; je me trouve comme une goutte d'eau dans un océan immense.

- Micromégas by Voltaire

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"I finally understood after screaming some.
I'd been afraid this whole time.
I was afraid because I couldn't see my future.
I was afraid of not knowing what I wanted to do...
... and of myself for not knowing that.
And...
And I was afraid of the days that nevertheless flew by without any mercy.
But...
Even then...
If I keep riding like this, will I be able ( Read more... )

Romeo; III, v:
Look, love. What envious streaks
Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east.
Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain-tops.

- Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare

(thanks to
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"I wish the world was flat like the old days
Then i could travel just by folding a map
No more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways
There'd be no distance that can hold us back."

- The New Year by Death Cab For Cutie

That is what love is, I thought. A possibility that becomes a choice. A choice you keep making, over and over. Day after day. Year after year. Time after time.

It began with a theft and ended with a gift. And in between came an illusion, a sleight of hand, a choice that became the chance for love. For that is all we can see in just one blink of an ( Read more... )

"It is nothing to die; it is frightful not to live."

- Les Misérables by Victor Hugo

Today I picked up this book at the library and contemplated reading it over the holidays, but after flipping through it a bit I figured my resolve wouldn't last.

That was the only time, as I stood there, looking at that strange rubbish, feeling the wind coming across those empty fields, that I started to imagine just a little fantasy thing, because this was Norfolk after all, and it was only a couple of weeks since I'd lost him. I was thinking about the rubbish, the flapping plastic in the branches, the ( Read more... )

August is the month when wars start. It's when water dries up and the spirit begins to wither. Insomniacs pull down their shades and lock themselves in their rooms in August. Lifelong friends have fist fights. People feel like they're going to burst. Sometimes they do ( Read more... )

What would happen if I wrote some pages for you? Each day a page, to show you that I am finding a story, the story of how we might have been together, once. Of how we could be.
I never asked to go to any of these places with you. I wouldn't have cared if we had never gone anywhere. Yes - even Paris.
We could have traveled enough for me if we had ( Read more... )