27
" I didn't leave right away. I stayed in the woods. I heard the faint voices of other people. I felt the cold against my skin. But mostly, I was aware of my own heavy breathing, my own thoughts, my own past, present, and future.
I realized then, and would have to keep realizing in all the years to come:
It didn't matter if I was the kind of girl who had sex, of the kind of girl who had her portrait on a wall in the library, or the kind of girl who got into the best college, or the kind of girl who didn't tell her parents everything, or the kind of girl who teachers loved.
I just needed to be okay with all the kinds of girl I was. "
― Siobhan Vivian , Not That Kind of Girl
29
" I see the process of reaching out, sharing yourself, communicating, establishing contact between two people as similar to, if not the same as, the interaction between two people entering a relationship in literature – that is, as reader and writer. Both seem to have the same astounding possibilities and the same terrible pitfalls. But if you battle through and souls touch, magic happens. Love. We feel more human, more alive, more understood, naked and yet protected from the cold of isolation and indifference. Our loneliness is, temporarily, held at bay. "
― , The Fifth Mrs Brink: A Memoir
31
" It looks like fallen petals, and it looks like rain. It looks like the sounds the birds make at dawn. It looks like the aisle of grocery stores when a song I love suddenly begins to play overhead, and I cannot help but dance a little dance. It looks like a sigh, a kiss, an unmade bed. It looks like Cheerios in a white bowl with a bit of silence on the side. It looks like a plain vanilla cupcake in white paper, a dance with the wind, pink toenails, warm socks. It looks like a fire against the cold of winter, and a deep lake cool against a summer sky. It looks like chick flicks, books that make you cry, and all the candles blown out on the first try. "
32
" The conviction that life has a purpose is rooted in every fibre of man, it is a property of the human substance. Free men give many names to this purpose, and think and talk a lot about its nature. But for us the question is simpler. Today, in this place, our only purpose is to reach the spring. At the moment we care about nothing else. Behind this aim there is not at the moment any other aim. In the morning while we wait endlessly lined up in roll-call square for the time to leave for work, while every breath of wind penetrates our clothes and runs in violent shivers over our defenceless bodies, and everything is grey around us, and we are grey; in the morning, when it is still dark, we all look at the sky in the east to spot the first signs of a milder season, and the rising of the sun is commented on every day: today a little earlier than yesterday, today a little warmer than yesterday, in two months, in a month, the cold will call a truce and we will have one enemy less. Today the sun rose bright and clear for the first time from the horizon of mud. It is a Polish sun, cold, white, distant, and only warms the skin, but when it dissolved the last mists a murmur ran through our colourless numbers, and when even I felt its lukewarmth through my clothes I understood how men can worship the sun. "
― Primo Levi , Survival in Auschwitz
38
" Out in the cold I stand,Looking on at the world sitting tight,With its people in their nice little worlds,And the friends who don’t even know me.It really makes no difference to their world where I am.If I'm there, it keeps going.If I’m not, it goes on.While I walk around, wandering, wondering,My mind a mass of mixed-up machinery,Clashing with conflicts and unanswered questions.I don’t ask the world if it is real-It sits up there on its foundations,Secure, concrete, hard, stone and real.But maybe I’m not realOr if I am, maybe I shouldn’t be.They answer, ‘Smile, God loves you’,But I can’t smile.I’m numbed by cold inside and out.Even the heat in the square brick buildingsWould only warm my body, nothing else.I’m alone in a world full of people,Apart, shut up inside myself,Cold, unfeeling, in a cold unfeeling world. "
39
" I used to think I didn't need anyone. I used to think that I could be complete all alone. I tried to shut my eyes to how frozen I was becoming from the cold shards of glass, as they sank down into my heart and blinded me. I had nothing to be obsessed with, because I had no possessions. That was the only thing that comforted me against my fear of the dismal reality. But...I was lonely...I was sad. And I was desolate. I was supposed to be complete, even when alone...but I just couldn't be. I didn't even have someone's name to call out when I was all alone in the darkness. I wanted to tell that certain someone...because I only had one possession...because I was the only thing to protect or lose...I clasped it tightly to my chest. I couldn't afford to let anyone take it away from me. I wanted to tell that special person that I've only been gasping for breath on that painfully cold winter night, bundled up just like that. And I wanted to tell him that I never wanted to go back to that frozen, snow-covered world. And now, I long for our hearts to thaw together, side by side, flushed red and pulsing with love...and to soon become one. "
― , Totally Captivated, Volume 4 (Totally Captivated #4)