Tuesday

My soul was a burden, bruised and bleeding. It was tired of the man who carried it, but I found no place to set it down to rest. Neither the charm of the countryside nor the sweet scents of a garden could soothe it. It found no peace in song or laugher, none in the company of friends at table or in the pleasures of love, none even in books or poetry... Where could my heart find refuge from itself? Where could I go, yet leave myself behind?
--Wally Lamb, The Hour I First Believed

Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that.
You forget some things, dont you?
Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.
--Cormac McCarthy, The Road

My imagination will get me a passport to hell one day.
--John Steinbeck, East Of Eden

I say, Billy, what’s the use in playing croquet when you’re doomed?
He says, Frankie, what’s the use of not playing croquet when you’re doomed?
--Frank McCourt, Angela's Ashes

But why think about that when all the golden lands ahead of you and all kinds of unforseen events wait lurking to surprise you and make you glad you're alive to see?
--Jack Kerouac, On The Road

The world was hers for the reading.
--Betty Smith, A Tree Grows In Brooklyn