104
" If only you would realize some day, how much have you hurt me,
If only your heart ever, craves for me or my presence…
If only you feel that love again someday for me,
If only you are affected someday by my absence…
Only you can end all my suffering and this unbearable pain,
If only you would know what you could never procure…
If only you go through the memories of past once again,
Since the day you left my heart has bled, no one has its cure…
If only you would bring that love, those showers and that rain…
If only you would come back and see what damage you create,
I’ve been waiting for your return since forever more…
If only you would see the woman that you have made,
You said we cannot sail through, how were you so sure?
If only you can feel the old things that can never fade,
You may have moved on, but a piece of my heart is still with you…
I know how I’ve come so far alone; I know how I’m able to wade,
People say that I’m insane and you won’t ever come back again…
Maybe you would have never made your separate way,
Maybe you would have stayed with me and proved everyone wrong…
If only you would know the pain of dying every day,
If only you would feel the burden of smiling and being strong… "
― Mehek Bassi , Chained: Can you escape fate?
107
" I look at the Augusteum,and I think that perhaps my life has not actually been so chaotic, after all. It is merely this world that is chaotic, bringing changes to us all that nobody could have anticipated. The Augusteum warns me to not to get attached to any obsolete ideas about who I am, what I represent, whom I belong to, or what function I may once have intended to serve. Yesterday I might have been a glorious monument to somebody, true enough--but tomorrow I could be a fireworks depository. Even in the Eternal City, says the silent Augusteum, one must always be prepared for riotous and endless waves of transformation. "
― Elizabeth Gilbert , Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia
110
" The letter said that they were two feet high, and green, and shaped like plumber's friends. Their suction cups were on the ground, and their shafts, which were extremely flexible, usually pointed to the sky. At the top of each shaft was a little hand with a green eye in its palm. The creatures were friendly, and they could see in four dimensions. They pitied Earthlings for being able to see only three. They had many wonderful things to teach Earthlings, especially about time. Billy promised to tell what some of those wonderful things were in his next letter.Billy was working on his second letter when the first letter was published. The second letter started out like this:The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present and future, always have existed, always will exist. The Tralfamadorians can look at all the different moments just that way we can look at a stretch of the Rocky Mountains, for instance. They can see how permanent all the moments are, and they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one, like beads on a string, and that once a moment is gone it is gone forever.When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in a bad condition in that particular moment, but that the same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is " so it goes. "
113
" Regular maps have few surprises: their contour lines reveal where the Andes are, and are reasonably clear. More precious, though, are the unpublished maps we make ourselves, of our city, our place, our daily world, our life; those maps of our private world we use every day; here I was happy, in that place I left my coat behind after a party, that is where I met my love; I cried there once, I was heartsore; but felt better round the corner once I saw the hills of Fife across the Forth, things of that sort, our personal memories, that make the private tapestry of our lives. "
― Alexander McCall Smith , Love Over Scotland (44 Scotland Street, #3)
117
" life's kind of like a painting. A really bizarre, abstract painting. You could look at it and think that all it is, is a blur. And you could continue living your life thinking that all it is, is just a blur. But if you really look at it, really see it, focus on it, and use your imagination, life can become so much more. The painting could be of the sea, the sky, people,buildings, a butterfly on a flower, or anything except the blur you were once convinced it was. "
― Cecelia Ahern , If You Could See Me Now