Bokelskere.no

I regret that it takes a life to lean how to live.

When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table.
I spent my life learning to feel less.
Every day I felt less.
Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?

She wants to know if I love her, that's all anyone wants from anyone else, not love itself, but the knowledge that love is there

We had everything to say to each other, but no ways to say it.

She had fallen in love so many times that she began to suspect she was not falling in love at all, but doing something much more ordinary.

"Why do beautiful songs make you sad?" "Because they aren't true." "Never?" "Nothing is beautiful and true."

The end of suffering does not justify the suffering, and so there is no end to suffering.

If I'd been someone else in a different world I'd've done something different, but I was myself, and the world was the world, so I was silent.

Jeg tenker og tenker og tenker, jeg har tenkt meg ut av lykken en million ganger, men aldri inn i den

They were smoking cigars and watching the world like it was tv.