“You have with you the book you were reading in the cafe, which you are eager to continue, so that you can then hand it on to her, to communicate again with her through the channel dug by others’ words, which, as they are uttered by an alien voice, by the voice of that silent nobody made of ink and typographical spacing, can become yours and hers, a language, a code between the two of you, a means to exchange signals and recognize each other.” —Italo Calvino (x)
“Years of love have been forgot, in the hatred of a minute.” —Edgar Allan Poe (x)
Totally winged my “pretentious photographer” costume and got all the best candy.
“I felt utterly alone, as if I was the last person alive on earth. I can’t describe that feeling of total loneliness. I just wanted to disappear into thin air and not think about anything.” —Haruki Murakami (x)