Author of quotes: Donna Of Tartt. Page 3

... It is true that every great painting is really a self-portrait.

How I was brought to this strange new life, where at night yelling drunken foreigners, and I am wearing dirty clothes and no one loves me?

It was raining. Ran, hunched over, pedestrians. The rain beat up on the glass, rain drops appeared on the plastic lids of garbage cans at the curb. Seated at the table, in donating musty armchair, I tried to somehow ground yourself or at least be comforted by the faded silks, and the gloom of the shop, its bittersweet gloom, so like a rainy grey dark classrooms of childhood, but I sharply threw the outflow of dopamine, and I felt only pretreat something very similar to death - a sorrow which at first feel a stomach surge over the frontal bone, undead roar of darkness, from which I had fenced off.

But if beauty is terror, then what is desire? asked Julian. - We think that we want a lot, but in fact we want only one. What?
- To live, ' replied Camille.
- Live forever - said Bunny, not lifting his chin from the palm of your hand.

A good detective is not "who killed" and "why murder".

The morning light sometimes makes the ugliest things in the world is really beautiful.

- Death is the mother of beauty, ' said Henry.
- What, then, beauty?
The horror.

Is it possible to miss someone as I miss mom? To me it lacked that I wanted to die, to me its acutely, physically not enough - like air under water. I lay awake and tried to remember her all the best, capture it in your brain, never to be forgotten, but instead of birthdays and other fun in mind all the memories pop up like a few days before death she stopped me in the doorway and took the lead with a school jacket. Somehow I remember it most clearly: the knitted brow, as she held out a hand, everybody. A couple of times when I was tossing and turning from sleep to wakefulness, I suddenly jumped up in bed from her voice in my head, phrases that she once said, but I did not remember, such as "Throw me an Apple," or "I Wonder if buttons should be in front or in back?" or "How shabby life this couch!".

All is lost, I disappeared from the map: I was out wandering around someone else's house and another family, and I was sluggish, lethargic, tearful, even though the prisoner, who was deprived of sleep for several days. Again and again I thought, "already waiting for Me at home," and then for the millionth time: "can't wait."

Cost remember - and every time I flinched as another slap in the face: she died. Every new event, every my action for the rest of your life will be more and more to divide us: the days in which it will no longer - ever-growing distance between us. With my every new day she will be with me farther and farther away.

Maybe I really did well, I don't know. I'm certainly not crying Beluga, not punched his fists glasses did not, in General, anything that I thought can be done when you feel what I felt. But sometimes unexpectedly grief came in waves, so I started to choke, and when rolled back, I found that looking at the salted pieces of the wreckage, filled with so bright, so tearing the soul empty and light that it is difficult to believe that the world once was not dead.

The light of bygone days varies greatly with the light of present days, and yet in this house every corner reminds me of the past. But when I think of you, it looks like you went on the ship in the sea - sailed to foreign brightness where there are no roads, and there are only stars and sky.

Things would have been much better, stay it alive. But it just so happened that she died when I was a teenager, and although that happened to me after that, it was only me, still, after losing her I lost every landmark that might lead me to some happier, more crowded, more normal life.
Her death was the dividing line: Before and After. After so many years, of course, that doesn't sound quite gloomy, but as it is, I no longer loved.

In her community all came to life, she radiated magical theatrical light, so look at the world through her eyes meant to see it much brighter than usual.