Life is just one long day separated into sections by sleep. Life never stops happening until you are dead. So whatever happens-love, grief, hate, shame- never disappears. It just gets easier to live with. It just scabs over, waiting for something else significant to happen.
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Sunshine O’Donnell,
Open Me
I like libraries. It’s a comfort that knowledge can be saved for so long.
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Scarlet Jackson Pearce
It is so long before the mind can persuade itself that she whom we saw every day and whose very existence appeared a part of our own can have departed forever that the brightness of a beloved eye can have been extinguished and the sound of a voice so familiar and dear to the ear can be hushed, never more to be heard. These are the reflections of the first days; but when the lapse of time proves the reality of the evil, then the actual bitterness of grief commences.
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Mary Shelley,
Frankenstein
Believe me if you consult philosophy she will persuade you not to lit so long at your counting desk
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Seneca,
Letters from a Stoic
In a library, no empty shelf remains empty for long.
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Alberto Manguel,
The Library at Night
We read in slow, long motions, as if drifting in space, weightless. We read full of prejudice, malignantly. We read generously, making excuses for the text, filling gaps, mending faults. And sometimes, when the stars are kind, we read with an intake of breath, with a shudder… as if a memory had suddenly been rescued from a place deep within us–the recognition of something we never knew was there…
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Alberto Manguel,
A History of Reading
when happiness makes a guest appearance in one’s life,it’s important to make the most of it.It may not stay around for long and when it has gone wouldn’t it be terrible to think that all the time one could have been happy was wasted worrying when the happiness would be taken away.
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Marian Keyes,
Watermelon
Another glorious Sierra day in which one seems to be dissolved and absorbed and sent pulsing onward we know not where. Life seems neither long nor short, and we take no more heed to save time or make haste than do the trees and stars. This is true freedom, a good practical sort of immortality.
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John Muir,
My First Summer in the Sierra
a wind has blown the rain away amp; the sky away amp; all the leaves away, amp; the trees stand. i think i, too, have known autumn too long.
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E.E. Cummings
He was raw and sharp and rich and throbbing with life. He was sweet blood after a long hunt. How could she have mistaken Aiden’s kisses for this They had been delicious and smooth like the brief comfort of chocolate, but they had never been enough.
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Annette Curtis Klause,
Blood and Chocolate
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