“I am infinitely strange to myself.”— John Fowles
“She’s a gloomy poem that was beautifully written.”— Maram Rimawi
“I don’t dream at night, I dream at day, I dream all day; I’m dreaming for living.”— Steven Spielberg
There’s an old poem by Neruda that I’ve always been captivated by, and one of the lines in it has stuck with me ever since the first time I read it. It says “love is so short, forgetting is so long.” It’s a line I’ve related to in my saddest moments, when I needed to know someone else had felt that exact same way. And when we’re trying to move on, the moments we always go back to aren’t the mundane ones. They are the moments you saw sparks that weren’t really there, felt stars aligning without having any proof, saw your future before it happened, and then saw it slip away without any warning. These are moments of newfound hope extreme joy, intense passion, wishful thinking, and in some cases, the unthinkable letdown.
“The mouth is made for communication, and nothing is more articulate than a kiss.”— Jarod Kintz
