I mean, I have the feeling that something in my mind is poisoning everything...– Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov
I felt as if I was the only person awake in a city of sleepwalkers. That’s an...– George Orwell, Coming Up for Air
People were created to be loved. Things were created to be used. The reason why...– Shapes by Emmanuel
Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?– Albert Camus
But then, life is a constant withering of possibilities. Some are stolen with...– Emily Maguire
That’s always seemed so ridiculous to me, that people want to be around someone...– John Green
A woman’s perfume tells more about her than her handwriting.– Christian Dior
You can’t always get the perfect moment. Sometimes, you just have to do the best...– Sarah Dessen
To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the...– Ralph Waldo Emerson
Globus - Crusaders of the light →
In Chloe, a great city, the people who move through the streets are all...– Italo Calvino
I felt like singing ~
«The trees in the pitch black night seemed cut out of the dark with precision, so majestic; lullabied by the wind, they rocked back and forth steadily as if threatning to walk or fly away. I couldn’t sleep. At least, not in this endless limbo of falling asleep or not falling asleep at all, that feeling of standing on that one string that’s always out of tune. I was tired. I felt...
White Lies - You Still Love Him →
I heard an angel’s voice, singing in quiet prayer It seemed to pull my heart, slowly straight up the stairs I spent that night awake, though you lay fast asleep, I saw a teardrop fall, gently down your cheek You still love him but she does too, she’ll take him far away from you You still love him but she does too, she’ll take him far away from you I crept out of the...
When he thought of her, he could call up a vivid picture of her to himself,...– Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
Edith Piaf & Theo Sarapo - À quoi ça sert l'amour →
A quoi ça sert, l’amour ? On raconte toujours Des histoires insensées A quoi ça sert d’aimer ? L’amour ne s’explique pas ! C’est une chose comme ça ! Qui vient on ne sait d’où Et vous prend tout à coup. Moi, j’ai entendu dire Que l’amour fait souffrir, Que l’amour fait pleurer, A quoi ça sert d’aimer ? L’amour, ça sert à quoi ? A nous donner d’la joie ...
Clair De Lune by Claude Debussy
Love creates beauty.The more you love them, the more beauty you see in them. The...– - Rick Warren