To love someone is to simply turn around.
-Sylvia Plath, The Letters of Sylvia Plath Volume I: 1940–1956
"Why is it that when the story ends we begin to feel all of it"
- Rupi Kaur | the sun and her flowers
Brenna twohy from Swallowtell //Sanna Wani, “Who is the Sun, Asking for Sleep?”, My Grief, the Sun // Fortesa Latifi, from The Truth About Grief.
-Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the shore
-Charles Bukowski, "cancer," from Come On In!
And their are the cold nights where I miss you a little more, my inside crumbles and the heart cries.
-Fyodor Dostoevsky, Poor People
-Mahmoud Darwish, from "In the Presence of Absence," originally published in 2006
-Marguerite Duras, from The Easy Life