She's confusing, captivating, and we're completely wrong for each other in all the right ways. She's a flame, and I'm going to get burned. An ocean and I'm going to drown.
A friend in Norway told me a story about a painter who went out during a storm, searching for the right shade of green, and never returned.
I'm writing you because I'm not the one leaving, but the one coming back, empty-handed.
Sayfa 174 - Jonathan Cape London, Penguin Random House UKKitabı okudu
I'm broken in two, the message said. In two, it was the only thought I could keep, sitting in my seat, how losing a person could make more of us, the living, makes us two.
Sayfa 167 - Jonathan Cape London, Penguin Random House UKKitabı okudu
Sometimes, when I'm careless, I think survival is easy: you just keep moving forward with what you have, or what's left of what you were given, until something changes--or you realize, at last, that you can change without disappearing, that all you had to do was wait until the storm passes you over and you find that -yes- your name is still attached to a living thing.
Sayfa 137 - Jonathan Cape London, Penguin Random House UKKitabı okudu
I don't know what I'm saying. I guess what I mean is that sometimes I don't know what or who we are. Days I feel like a human being, while other days I feel more like a sound. I touch the world not as myself but as an echo of who I was. Can you hear me yet? Can you read me?
Sayfa 62 - Jonathan Cape London, Penguin Random House UKKitabı okudu
My heart is burning with love. All I can see is this flame. My heart is burning with passion, like waves on an ocean. I'm at home, wherever I am. And in the room of lovers, I can see with closed eyes the beauty that dances. Behind the veils, intoxicated with love, I too dance the rhythm of this moving world.
Until a minute ago—until Ian Fucking Floyd—it was going to be the last place I saw. The last slice of sky.
And just like that, a rushing terror punches through me. It knocks out the fabricated quiet of my Martian ocean, and the sheer magnitude of what nearly happened, of all the things I love that I would have missed out on if Ian hadn’t come for me, sweeps through my brain like a rake.
Dogs. Three a.m. in the summer. Sadie and Mara being absolute idiots, and me laughing at them. Hiking trips, kiwi iced tea, that Greek restaurant I never got around to trying, elegant code, the next season of Stranger Things, really good sex, a Nature publication, seeing humans on Mars, the ending of A Song of Ice and Fire—
I never had a mother, will you let me make the sun my own for now, and the ocean my son?
I'm quite good at tending to things despite my upbringing, can I raise your mountains?
I promise to keep them greener, make them my daughters
Teach them about fire, warn them about water
Still I Rise
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
