Dreamer @endlessswarmofecstaticdaydreams - Tumblr Blog

Her heart of compressed ash, which had resisted the most telling blows of daily reality without strain, fell apart with the first waves of nostalgia. The need to feel sad was becoming a vice as the years eroded her. She became human in her solitude.

– Gabriel García Márquez

What is it with me? Am I absolutely nobody, but merely inordinately vain? I do not know.... But I am most fearfully unhappy. That is all. I am so unhappy that I wish I was dead-yet I should be mad to die when I have not yet lived at all.

Katherine Mansfield

I never seemed to like the spring for what it was; I always loved it for what it might have been. In the head. In the heart of hearts. It is in my ability, I think, to love something fully only if I am naturally, compulsively, irrationally drawn to it.

Anne Sexton

Actually that's my secret - I can't even talk about you to anybody because I don't want any more people to know how wonderful you are.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender Is the Night

To restore you and myself, I return to my state of garden and shade, cool reality, I hardly exist and if I do exist it's with delicate care. Surrounding the shade is a teeming, sweaty heat. I'm alive. But I feel I've not yet reached my limits, bordering on what? Without limits, the adventure of a dangerous freedom. But I take the risk, I live taking it. I'm full of acacias swaying yellow, and I, who have barely begun my journey, begin it with a sense of tragedy, guessed what lost ocean my life steps will take me to. And crazily I latch onto the corners of myself, my hallucinations suffocate me with their beauty. I am before, I am almost, I am never. And all this I gained when I stopped loving you.

Clarice Lispector, The Stream of Life

Once in a while, groundless melancholy would darken my face, a dull and incomprehensible nostalgia for times never experienced would invade me.

Clarice Lispector

She exists as in dreams. She has no sense of reality. She gets nervous because people are always interrupting her daydreams.

Clarice Lispector

I should nurse a grudge, Nastenka! That I should cast a dark cloud over your bright, serene happiness; that I, with bitter reproaches, should cast pangs of anguish on your heart, wound it with secret remorse and force it to beat with anguish at the moment of bliss; that I would crush even one of those delicate flowers that you plaited into your black curls when you walked together with him to the altar... Oh, never, never! May your sky be clear, may your sweet smile be bright and serene, may you be blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness that you gave to another lonely, grateful heart!

My God! A whole minute of bliss! Is that really so little for the whole of a man's life?

– Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

I, myself, loved laughing too much

Whenever I wasn't supposed to!

– Marina Tsvetaeva

I cannot exist without you - I am forgetful of every thing but seeing you again - my Life seems to stop there I see no further. You have absorb'd me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I were dissolving... I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion - I have shudder'd at it - I shudder no more - I could be martyr'd for my Religion - Love is my religion - I could die for that I could die for you. My creed is Love and you are its only tenet - You have ravish'd me away by a Power I cannot resist.

John Keats

She suffers as a miser. She must be miserly with her pleasures, as well. I wonder if sometimes she doesn't wish she were free of this monotonous sorrow, of these mutterings which start as soon as she stops singing, if she doesn't wish to suffer once and for all, to drown herself in despair. In any case, it would be impossible for her: she is bound.

Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea