It’s like you become more you. Which normally is like… But now it’s okay, because the person, like, whoever, they chose to take all that on. All that weird stuff. Whatever’s wrong or bad or hiding in you. Suddenly it’s all right- you don’t feel like such a freak anymore.

Orange is the New Black

He’d say, “that’s the way it goes, but don’t forget, it goes the other way too.” That’s the way romance is- usually, that’s the way it goes, but every once in awhile, it goes the other way too.

True Romance

In real life, love has to be possible. Even if it is not returned right away, love can only survive when the hope exists that you will be able to win over the person you desire.
Anything else is fantasy.

By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept, Paulo Coehlo.

And then I saw him and nothing was ever the same again.
The sky was never the same colour, the moon never the same shape: the air never smelt the same, food never tasted the same. Every word I knew changed its meaning, everything that once was stable and firm became as insubstantial as a puff of wind, and every puff of wind became a solid thing I could feel and touch.

Moab is my Washpot, Stephen Fry.

So we lay in the dark, ‘cause we’ve got nothing to say- just the beating of hearts, like two drums in the grey. I don’t know what we’re doing, I don’t know what we’ve done, but the fire is coming so I think we should run.

Run, Daughter.

'What's the matter? Don't you like being with your friends?'
‘Yes, I do. It’s just that I like being on my own too.’

I’m Not Scared, Niccolò Ammaniti.

Ella sembró en mi cabeza la idea de que la realidad no es sólo como se percibe en la superficie, también tiene una dimensión mágica y, si a uno se le antoja, es legítimo exagerarla y ponerle color para que el tránsito por esta vida no resulte tan aburrido.

Eva Luna, Isabel Allende.

"Where are the people?” resumed the little prince at last. “It’s a little lonely in the desert…”
“It is lonely when you’re among people, too,” said the snake.

The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

I am tired of all of this. But I am used to it too.

Veronika Decides to Die, Paulo Coehlo.

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!"

On the Road, Jack Kerouac.