In principle and reality, libraries are life-enhancing palaces of wonder.—Gail Honeyman, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine
It’s good to be foolish from time to time. It keeps your spirit young.—Ottessa Moshfegh, Eileen
Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines (Excerpt)
by Pablo Neruda
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
We sleep when we don’t love.—Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
She knows that killing a person does almost-invisible things to you; it leaves you arm-linked with death, your head tilted just a degree that way, so that for the rest of your life your shadows mix together.—Tana French, The Secret Place
Poets Eleven Poem
Between the page with the heart
and the mind wrestling upon it,
and the ear which later will receive
those limbs of light as perfect harmony,
there’s a stillness whose volume speaks
worlds of words defiant of measure,
treasures of the unsayable, secrets
of the ever-beginning enchantment
and the never-ending gathering
at the lips of the kiss of the poem.
If you want something you can have it, but only if you want everything that goes with it, including all the hard work and the despair, and only if you’re willing to risk failure.—Philip Pullman, Clockwork
In a Station of the Metro
by Ezra Pound
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough.
Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.—Rainbow Rowell, Eleanor & Park
Putting our minds to something has never been the problem. The problem has been: Who decides whose mind is worthy?—Amber Tamblyn, Era of Ignition