My Bookcase

This is the place where I post my favorite quotes from books I'm reading Have fun and if you have any doubts or book suggestions tell me! I would love to read books you guys liked. Most of my quotes are in portuguese, it's realy hard to find books in...

[my-bookcase]

The Road Not Taken BY ROBERT FROST Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

[my-bookcase]

As pombas Raimundo Correia Vai-se a primeira pomba despertada... Vai-se outra mais... mais outra... enfim dezenas De pombas vão-se dos pombais, apenas Raia sanguínea e fresca a madrugada... E à tarde, quando a rígida nortada Sopra, aos pombais de novo elas, serenas, Ruflando as asas, sacudindo as penas, Voltam todas em bando e em revoada... Também dos corações onde abotoam, Os sonhos, um por um, céleres voam, Como voam as pombas dos pombais; No azul da adolescência as asas soltam, Fogem... Mas aos pombais as pombas voltam, E eles aos corações não voltam mais...

Raimundo Correia

[my-bookcase]

The sun kept on with its slipping away, and I thought how many small good things in the world might be resting on the shoulders of something terrible.

Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home

[my-bookcase]

I thought of all the different kinds of love in the world. I could think of ten without even trying. The way parents love their kids, the way you love a puppy or chocolate ice cream or home or your favorite book or your sister. Or your uncle. There's those kinds of love and then there's the other kind. The falling kind.

Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home

[my-bookcase]

That's what being shy feels like. Like my skin is too thin, the light too bright. Like the best place I could possibly be is in a tunnel far under the cool, dark earth. Someone asks me a question and I stare at them, empty-faced, my brain jammed up with how hard I'm trying to find something interesting to say. And in the end, all I can do is nod or shrug, because the light of their eyes looking at me, waiting for me, is just too much to take. And then it's over and there's one more person in the world who thinks I'm a complete and total waste of space.

Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home

[my-bookcase]

That's the secret. If you always make sure you're exactly the person you hoped to be, if you always make sure you know only the very best people, then you won't care if you die tomorrow.

Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home

[my-bookcase]

Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn’t have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. Waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again.

Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home

[my-bookcase]

When you're out here alone, contemplating all the things you didn't do and the person you didn't become ... if you think about it too long a hush seeps into the gray space, and the wind will hollow out your bones, and the purest kind of loneliness comes up from the inside to swallow you like an avalanche.

Sarah Ockler, Bittersweet

[my-bookcase]

Would 'sorry' have made any difference? Does it ever? It's just a word. One word against a thousand actions.

Sarah Ockler, Bittersweet

[my-bookcase]

May we generally be happy, generally be witty, generally be honest, but above all always be interesting.

Daniel Handler, The Basic Eight

[my-bookcase]

I hadn't felt such disgust for a boy since the early days, when they'd tease girls on the playground, kicking us and throwing gravel and raising their voices in high screechy mockery. "They do that because they like you," all the adults said, grinning like pumpkins. We believed them, back then. Back then we thought it was true, and we were drawn toward all that meanness because it meant we were special, let them kick us, let them like us. We liked them back. But now it was turning out that our first instincts were right. Boys weren't mean because they liked you; it was because they were mean.

Daniel Handler, The Basic Eight

[my-bookcase]

It struck him as curious that you could create dead men but not living ones. Comrade Ogilvy, who had never existed in the present, now existed in the past, and when once the act of forgery was forgotten, he would exist just as authentical ly, and upon the same evidence, as Charlemagne or Julius Caesar.

1984

George Orwell

[my-bookcase]

‘Who controls the past,’ ran the Party slogan, ‘controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.’

1984

George Orwell

[my-bookcase]

The Party said that Oceania had never been in alliance with Eurasia. He, Winston Smith, knew that Oceania had been in alliance with Eurasia as short a time as four years ago. But where did that knowledge exist? Only in his own consciousness, which in any case must soon be annihilated. And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed— if all records told the same tale—then the lie passed into history and became truth.

1984

George Orwell

[my-bookcase]

I never felt the urge to jump off a bridge, but there are times I have wanted to jump out of my life, out of my skin.

David Levithan, The Realm of Possibility

[my-bookcase]

The old place seems only to have changed in relation to me. I‘m bigger. It‘s smaller. I‘m older. It‘s ancient. It‘s still the same color that I remember, but now the paint along the bottom peels down in golden curls like lazy spring daffodils. The shutters are loose and crooked, some open on both sides while others are shut or half-shut, sneaking looks as if after all these years, the house no longer recognizes me.

Fixing Delilah Sarah Ockler

[my-bookcase]

But things aren‘t different. She‘s her and I‘m me and surrounding us is an ocean of mess and misunderstanding, full of pirates and sharks just waiting to see who slips in first.

Fixing Delilah Sarah Ockler