“April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.”

For you know only a heap of broken images

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, and I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, and in short, I was afraid.

The very existence of libraries affords the best evidence that we may yet have hope for the future of man

I am moved by fancies that are curled, around these images and cling, the notion of some infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.

The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink.

This love is silent.

We had the experience but missed the meaning. And approach to the meaning restores the experience in a different form.

For I have known them all already, known them all—Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.

Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech

I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

In a minute there is time For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time.

So I find words I never thought to speak In streets I never thought I should revisit When I left my body on a distant shore.

Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go.

This is one moment, / But know that another / Shall pierce you with a sudden painful joy.

If you haven’t the strength to impose your own terms upon life, then you must accept the terms it offers you.

I thought you were supposed to be pretending I don’t exist, not irritating me to death.

The difference between trying to be fit and not being fit really means the difference between life and death.

You only live but once, and when your died your done, so let the good times roll.

Say nothing but good of the dead.

In the dead silence, all the details suddenly fell into place for me with a burst of intuition. Something Edward didn’t want me to know. Something that Jacob wouldn’t have kept from me, It was never going to end, was it?

In my lowest moments, the only reason I didn’t commit suicide was that I knew I wouldn’t be able to drink any more if I was dead.

Be a dreamer. If you don’t know how to dream, you’re dead.

Everybody is worried about dying, but the cause of death is birth, so if you don’t want to die, you don’t get born!