That is what two people must give to each other, he thinks: the history of themselves. How else can we hope to be known?
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
History is that scar on your hand. It’s the stories that leave a mark, the past that refuses to stay past.”
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
History is a story—the story of ourselves.
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
The past is never dead. It’s not even past.
—WILLIAM FAULKNER, REQUIEM FOR A NUN
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
Every song is a love song, she thought. Every song is for you.
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
This bud of love, by summer’s ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
—SHAKESPEARE, ROMEO AND JULIET
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
Destiny was too small a word; there was a force at work that ran far deeper, a thread woven into the fabric of all things.
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
He placed his son along his arm as Jenny had done and began to rub. The lightness of his body was stupendous; how astounding that a person could grow from this small thing, that not just people but every living creature upon the earth had begun this way. Caleb felt swept into a miracle. Something soft and wet filled his palm; the baby’s chest expanded with a gulp of air.
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
And thence we came forth, to see again the stars.
—DANTE ALIGHIERI, INFERNO
Habitante de librohar citeratför 2 år sedan
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
—SARAH WILLIAMS, “THE OLD ASTRONOMER TO HIS PUPIL”