• 01 — camille deangelis bones and all
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

i was beautiful and brave, someone destined to love and survive, to be happy and to remember.

memories distort themselves, turning over into truths that are easier to live with.

the morning after mama left i went into the kitchen and threw a dish on the floor just to see what it felt like.

i only found people like me in storybooks i read in the library. giants. trolls. witches. the minotaur. if this were a greek epic, i would be the hero's narrow escape. the heroine never ate anybody, and the nasty man eating giants all got their comeuppance. what i was expecting? someone like me could never be a good one.

eventually i realized something, whenever you tell yourself, this time it will be different, it's as good as a promise that it'll turn out the same as it always was.

i understood now why the smell of laundry soap was so comforting: things couldn't be so hopeless if somebody was still bothering to wash the sheets.

"you ain't ever gonna feel nothin' other people ain't been through a million times before."

"its like anything else, i guess. you've never heard of it, and then once you have you see it everywhere you look." i gave him a doubtful look. "you find what you expect. that's what i'm getting at."

she'd never loved me, had she? she'd felt responsible for me, like everything i'd ever done was her fault for having brought me into the world. every kindness she'd ever shown me had come out of guilt, not love. all that time she was only waiting until i was old enough to get by on my own.

"i guess i just don't see the point of it. all the things they used to tell us in school, how we should read all those books and do all these things to better ourselves. like learning bigger words makes you a better person." "it's not about that." "there's no point. i can't better myself." "but that's not why i read. when i read a book i can be somebody else. for two or three hundred pages i can have the problmes of a normal person, even if that person is traveling through time or fighting aliens." i ran my hand over the master and margarita. "i need the books. they're all i've got" he looked at me then like he felt sorry for me.

"musicals are corny." "so what?" i said. "they're the best kind of fantasy all these beautiful people breaking out into song because talking about what they're feeling wouldn't be good enough."

i never thought i'd be jealous of a girl in a mental hospital.

"i told you family's overrated."

"now everything in that room belongs to you."

• 02 — ottessa moshfegh my year of rest and relaxation
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

eu já gostei da reva, mas não gostava mais. nós erámos amigas desde a faculdade, o que significava tempo suficiente para que a única coisa em comum que nos restasse fosse nossa história juntas.

"pelo menos estou me esforçando para mudar e ir atrás do que eu quero", ela disse. "além de dormir, o que você quer da vida?" escolhi ignorar seu sarcasmo. "queria ser artista, mas não tenho talento", respondi.

eu sempre estava disponível.

caras chatos lendo nietzsche no metrô, proust, david foster wallace, anotando seus pensamentos brilhantes num moleskine preto ... eles se ressentiam do sucesso alheio, queriam ser adorados, influentes celebrados por seu gênio, achavam que mereciam ser alvo de admiração ... esse tipinho se concentrava principalmente no brooklyn, outra razão pela qual eu estava feliz em morar no upper east side. lá ninguém ouvia moldy peaches. lá ninguém dava a mínima para "ironia" ou dogma 95 ou klaus kinki.

desde a adolescência eu oscilava entre querer parecer a branquinha mimada que de fato era e a dublê de mendiga que acho que seria se tivesse coragem.

adormeci no sofá vendo a ladrona. pelo menos whoopi goldberg era um motivo pra continuar viva.

"vai você ser esperta e depois me conta como é ótimo. estarei aqui, hibernando."

pintar o cabelo de roxo, ser reprovada, passar fome, furar o nariz, sair por aí dando pra geral, essas coisas. eu via outras adolescentes fazendo isso, mas na verdade não tinha energia para me dar ao trabalho. queria atenção, mas me recusava a me humilhar pedindo por ela. seria punida se demonstrasse sinais de sofrimento, sabia disso. sendo assim, eu me comportava. fazia tudo certinho. minha revolta era silenciosa, em meus pensamentos. meus pais mal pareciam notar que eu existia.

ainda não conseguia aceitar que trevor fosse um babaca imbecil. não queria acreditar que tinha me degradado por alguém que não merecia. ainda estava presa àquele vestígio de vaidade.

"você viu sexo, mentiras e videotape?", perguntei. "nesse filme, o james spader..."

o mundo da arte acabou se mostrando parecido com o mercado de ações: um reflexo de tendências políticas e convicções do capitalismo movido pela ganância, por fofoca e cocaína.

herdei do meu pai a coleção completa de vhs de jornada nas estrelas: a nova geração. o dia que ele encomendou aqueles cassetes deve ter sido a única ocasião na vida dele que discou para um 0800.

a ideia de como seria meu futuro de repente veio à tona: ele ainda não existia. eu estava criando o futuro ali, parada, respirando, fixando o ar ao redor do meu corpo com calma, tentando captar algo - um pensamento, suponho - como se isso fosse possível, como se eu acreditasse na ilusão descrita naquelas pinturas - que o tempo podia ser contido, mantido em cativeiro. eu não sabia o que era verdade ... o tempo não era imemorial. as coisas eram apenas coisas.

• 03 — jane austen emma
  • ⤹ ★★★★★

o sr. knightley, na verdade, era uma das poucas pessoas que podiam ver defeitos em emma woodhouse, e a única que ousava mencioná-los a ela; e, embora isso não fosse particularmente agradável a emma, ela sabia que o era ainda menos ao pai, já que este nem de leve podia admitir a hipótese de que ela não fosse tida como absolutamente perfeita por todos.

emma está ameaçando ler mais desde quando tinha 12 anos. já vi muitas listas, em várias ocasiões, relacionando os livros que tencionava ler regularmente então: listas bem-elaboradas, livros bem escolhidos, em bela disposição, às vezes em ordem alfabética, às vezes em outra ordem qualquer ... mas cansei-me de esperar que emma se dedicasse seriamente à leitura. ela não é de se submeter a coisa alguma que exija esforço e paciência, e a sujeitar sua fantasia ao puro entendimento.

adoro contemplá-la; e acrescento este louvor: não a acho pessoalmente fútil. considerando o quanto é elegante, parece não se ocupar muito consigo própria; sua vaidade reside em outra coisa.

sempre quis fazer de tudo e conseguiu mais progressos - tanto em desenho quanto em música - do que muitos o teriam conseguido com o pouco esforço com que ela sempre se entregou a isso. desenhava, tocava e cantava em quase todos os estilos; mas sempre lhe faltava perseverança; e em nada se aproximou daquele grau de excelência que bem gostaria de possuir e que não devia ter deixado de alcançar.

ter encantos, harriet, não é o suficiente para me induzir ao casamento; posso achar outras pessoas encantadoras... uma pessoa pelo menos. e não só não pretendo casar-me no presente, como tenho certa intenção de não me casar nunca ... era preciso que eu encontrasse alguém muito superior a todos aqueles que conheci até agora, para me sentir tentada ... não aspiro fortuna; não quero um emprego; não pretendo ser importante; acredito que poucas mulheres casadas sejam tão donas da casa de seus maridos como eu sou da de meu pai; e nunca, nunca poderia esperar ser mais fielmente amada e considerada importante, sempre tida como a primeira e sempre om a razão aos olhos de outro homem, como sou aos dele ... e bem me conheço, harriet, minha mente é muito ativa e laboriosa, com grande independência de recursos; e, além disso, não percebo por que irei ter mais necessidade de emprego aos quarenta ou cinquenta do que aos 21 anos. as ocupações usais da mulher, sejam visuais, manuais ou mentais, estarão abertas para mim como estão agora, ou sem nenhuma variação importa. se eu desenhar menos, lerei mais; se desistir da música, vou bordar tapetes.

arrebentou então o cadarço e atirou-o discretamente numa vala, colocando-se assim na situação de pedir-lhes que passassem e lhe desculpassem sua impossibilidade de prosseguir, já que não podia caminhar até a casa de maneira adequada. - um dos meus cadarços se rompeu - disse ela - e não sei como dar um jeito ...

há pessoas que, quantos mais fizermos por elas, menos farão para si mesmas.

- talvez agora possa começar a lamentar que perdeu um dia inteiro, dos poucos que tem, só para cortar o cabelo.

estou certa de que prefiro ouvi-la em vez dela.

- não é justo - disse emma, num cochicho - eu apenas fiz uma suposição ao acaso. não a constranja.

- é verdade, sinto muito estar com a razão neste caso. gostaria muito mais de ser feliz que ser sensata.

"não há encanto maior que a ternura do coração"

- não sei fazer discursos, emma - ele logo recomeçou, num tom de sincera, inteligível e decidida ternura, tanto quanto podia soar convincente. - se eu a amasse menos, seria capaz de falar mais sobre isto.

- oh! eu sempre mereço o melhor tratamento, porque não tolero nenhum outro ... - você mudou visivelmente desde a última vez que falamos nesse assunto. - espero que sim... pois naquela época eu era uma idiota.

• 04 — ichiro kishimi the courage to be disliked
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

the world you see is different from the one i see, and it's impossible to share your world with anyone else.

you should arrive at answers on your own, not rely upon what you get from someone else.

the greek word for "good" (agathon) does not have a moral meaning. it just means "beneficial." conversely, the word for "evil (kakon) means "not beneficial."

we cannot alter objective facts. but subjective interpretations can be altered as much as one likes.

"in our culture weakness can be quite strong and powerful."

i don't know much about fashion, but i think it's advisable to think of people who wear rings with rubies and emeralds on all their fingers as having issues with feelings of inferiority, rather than issues of aesthetic sensibility. in other words, they have sings of superiority complex.

even if you're not a loser, even if you're someone who keeps on winning, if you are someone who placed himself in competition, you will never have a moment's peace.

if someone were to abuse me to my face, i would think about the person's hidden goal. even if you are not directly abusive, when you feel genuinely angry due to another person's words or behavior, please consider that the person is challening you to a power struggle.

if romantic love is a relationship connected by red string, then the relationship between parents and children is bound in rigid chains. and a pair of small scissors is all you have.

as long as i use etiology to think, it is because he hit me that i have a bad relationship with my father, it would be a matter that was impossible for me to do anything about. but if i can think, i brought out the memory of being hit because i don't want my relationship with my father to get better, then i will be holding the card to repair relations. because if i can just change the goal, that fixes everything.

is pointing the camera at the protagonist really such a reprehensible thing?

because other people are not living to satisfy your expectations ... then, when those expectations are not satisfied, they become deeply desillusioned and feel as if they have been horribly insulted. and they become resentful, and think, that person didn't do anything for me. that person let me down. that person isn't my comrade anymore. he's my enemy.

when that happens, if you are thinking of school as being everything to you, you will end up without a sense of belonging to anything. and then, you will escape within a smaller community, such as your home. you will shut your self in, and maybe even turn to violence against members of your own family ... once you know how big the world is, you will see that all the hardship you went through school was a storm in a teacup. the moment you leave the teacup, but raging storm will be gone, and a gentle breeze will greet you in its place.

they are probably afraid that women will grow wise to their situation and start earning more than men do, and that women will start asserting themselves. they see all interpersonal relations as vertical relationships, and they are afraid of being seen by women as beneath the. that is to say, they have intense, hidden feelings of inferiority.

do not treat it as a line. think of life as a series of dots.

so life in general has no meaning whatsoever. but you can assign meaning to that life. and you are the only one who assign meaning to your life ... as long as we do not lose sight of this compass and keep on moving in this direction, there is happiness.

no, that is not the case. you say you wish you had known this ten years ago. it is because adler's though resonates with you now that you are thinking this. no one knows how you would have felt about it ten years ago. this discussion was something that you needed to hear now.

• 05 — j. g. ballard concrete island
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

'so no one stopped? i suppose you were surprised. these days we don't notice other people's selfishness until we're on the receiving end ourselves.'

you're the sort of man who has to test himself all the time. do you think you crashed on to this traffic island deliberately?

• 06 — antoine de saint exupery the little prince
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

i am very fond of sunsets.

it is more difficult to judge oneself than to judge others. if you succeed in judging yourself rightly, then you are indeed a man of true wisdom.

conceited people never hear anything but praise.

what is essential is invisible to the eye ... it is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important ... but you must not forget it. you become responsible for your rose.

you - you alone - will have the stars as no one else has them.

• 07 — jared diamond guns, germs, and steel: the fates of human societies
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

this objetction rests on a common tendency to confuse and explanation of causes with a justification or acceptance of results. what use one makes of a historical explanation is a question separate from the explanation itself. understand is more often used to try to alter an outcome than to repeat or perpetuate it.

the americas' big animals had already survived the ends of 22 previous ice ages. why did most of them pick the 23rd to expire in concert, in the presence of all those supposedly harmless humans?

elephants have been tamed, but never domesticated.

all those military histories glorifying great generals oversimplify the ego-deflating truth: the winners of past wars were not always the armies with the best generals and weapons, but were ofren merely those bearing the nastiest germs to transmit to their enemies

thus, invention is often the mother of necessity, rather than vice versa.

the new guineans whom i know include potential edisons. but they directed their ingenuity toward technological problems appropriate to their situations: the problems of surviving without any imported items in the new guinea jungle, rather than the problem of inventing phonographs.

• 08 — arthur schopenhauer the art of always being right
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

for example, should he defend suicide, you may at once exclaim, 'why don't you hang yourself?'

paveant illi, ego non pavebo.

they would sooner die than think ... in short, there are very few who can think, but every man wants to have an opinion; and what remains but to take it ready-made from others, instead of forming opinions for himself?

as a general rule, half an ounce of will is more effective than hundred-weight of insight and intelligence.

• 09 — haruki murakami norwegian wood
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

life doesn't require ideals. it requires standards of action.

if you only read the books that everyone is reading, you can only think what everyone is thinking.

"i'm looking for selfishness. perfect selfishness. like, say i tell you i want to eat strawberry shortbread. adn you stop everything you're doing and run out and buy it for me. and you come back out of breath and get down on your knees and hold this strawberry shortbread out to me. and i say i don't want it any more and throw it out of the window. that's what i'm looking for." "i'm not sure that has anything to do with love," i said with some amazement. "it does," she said.

everybody would use big words and pretend they knew what was going on ... most of these student types are total frauds.

i taught myself french and it's pratically perfect. languages are like games. you learn the rules for one, and they all work the same way. like women.

• 10 — j. d. salinger the catcher in the rye
  • ⤹ ★★☆☆☆

the goddam movies. they can ruin you. i'm not kidding.

the terrible part, though, is that i meant it when i asked her.

• 11 — niccolo machiavelli the prince
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

without an opportunity, their abilities would have been wasted, and without their abilities, the opportunity would have arisen in vain.

men are quicker to forget the death of a father than the loss of a patrimony.

all men will see what you seem to be; only a few will know what you are.

the people, as cicero says, may be ignorant, but they can recognize the truh and will readily yield when some trustworthy man explains it to them.

beside, men are moved by two principal things - by love and by fear.

• 12 — f. scott fitzgerald the great gatsby
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

'i'm glad it's a girl. and i hope she'll be a fool - that's the best thing a girl can be in this world, a beautiful little fool.'

'there are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired.'

'how did he happen to do that?' i asked after a minute. 'he just saw the opportunity.'

• 13 — f. scott fitzgerald tender is the night
  • ⤹ ★★★★★

"-so you love me?" "oh, do i!"

"god, am i like the rest after all?" - so he used to think starting awake at night - "am i like the rest?" this was poor material for a socialist but good material for those who do much of the world's rarest work.

you see she's quite musical and speaks all these languages.

you used to say a man knows things and when he stops knowing things he's like anybody else, and the thing is to get power before he stops knowing things.

"dick has me," laughed nicole. "i should think that'd be enough mental disorder for one man."

"you were scared, weren't you?" she accused him. "you wanted to live!"

"good manners are an admission that everybody is so tender that they have to be handled with gloves. now, human respect - you don't call a man a coward or a liar lightly, but if you spend your life sparing people's feelings and feeding their vanity, you get so you can't distinguish what should be respected in them."

"i never understood what common sense meant applied to complicated problems - unless it means that a general practitioner can perform a better operation than a specialist."

"but the meaning are different - in french you can be heroic and gallant with dignity, and you know it. but in english you can't be heroic and gallant without being a little absurd, and you know that too. that gives me an advantage."

nicole had been designed for change, for flight, with money as fins and wings.

"i loved dick and i'll never forget him," tommy answered, "of course not - why should you?"

• 14 — franz kafka the metamorphosis
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

era ele um animal, já que a música o comovia tanto? era como se lhe abrisse o caminho para o alimento almejado e desconhecido. estava decidido a chegar até a irmã, puxá-la pela saia e com isso indicar que ela devia ir ao seu quarto com o violino, pois ninguém aqui apreciava sua música como ele desejava fazer.

• 15 — johann wolfgang von goethe the sorrows of young werther
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

most people spend the greatest part of the time struggling to stay alive, and the little bit of freedom they have left makes them so anxious that they'll look for any means to get rid of it.

i think - that there are so few good days and so many bad ones. if our hearts were always open to enjoy the good that god puts before us each day, we would also be estrong enough to endure the bad whenever it comes.

certainly, since we are so constituted as to compare everything with ourselves and ourselves with everything, our happiness or misery lies in the objects with which we are associated, and so there's nothing more dangerous than solitude.

sometimes i cannot understand how someone else can love her, is allowed to love her, when i love her so exclusively, so intensely, so fully, and recognize nothing nor know nor have anything but her!

sometimes i tell myself: your fate is unique; count the other fortunate - no one else has ever been so tormented. - then i read a poet from ancient times, and it seems as if i were looking into my own heart. i have to endure so much! oh, then, can men who lived before me have been so miserable?

• 16 — jane austen pride and prejudice
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

i could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.

my ideas flow so rapidly that i have not time to express them.

your mother will never see you again if you do not marry mr. collins, and i will never see you again if you do.

there are few people whom i really love, and still fewer whom i think well. the more i see of the world, the more i am dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearence of either merit or sense.

till this moment, i never knew myself.

but how little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue, she could easily conjecture.

i am happier than jane; she only smiles, i laugh.

'a man who had felt less, might.'

• 17 — taylor jenkins reid daisy jones & the six
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

i think you have to have faith in people before they earn it. otherwise it's not faith, right?

"daisy, someone who insistis on the perfect conditions to make art isn't an artist. they're an asshole."

i think people that are too similar... they don't mix well. i used to think soulmates were two of the same. i used to think i was supposed to look for somebody that was just like me. i don't believe in soul mates anymore and i'm not looking for anything. but if i did believe in them, i'd believe your soul mate was somebody who had all the things you didn't that needed all the things you had. not somebody who's suffering from the same stuff you are.

that's the problem with people who don't have to work for things. they don't know how to work for things.

confidence is being okay being bad, not being okay being good.

but knowing you're good can only take you so far. at some point, you need someone else to see it, too.

which is what we all want from art, isn't it? when someone pins down that feels like it lives inside us? takes a piece of your heart and shows it to you? it's like they are introducing you to a part of yourself.

you can justify anything. if you're narcissistic enought to believe that the universe conspires for and against you - which we all are, deep down - then you can convince yourself you're getting signs about anything and everything.

knowing you did the right thing doesn't mean you're happy about it.

• 18 — taylor jenkins reid the seven husbands of evelyn hugo
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

the world doesn't give things, you take things.

i think the difference between an actress and a star is that the star feels comfortable being the very thing the world wants her to be.

"first, you have to push people's boundaries and not feel bad about it. no one is going to give you anything if you don't ask for it. you tried. you were told no. get over it."

i have to "evelyn hugo" evelyn hugo.

and then i saw breathless. i left the theater, went straight home, called harry cameron and said, "i have an idea. i'm going to paris."

"so that's what you want to do? you want to spend every second of our lives trying to hide what we really do? who we really are?" "it's what everyone in town is doing every day."

never let anyone make you feel ordinary.

"you have given me more than i ever thought i could have in one life."

i smiled, but all i could think about was rita hayworth's famous line. men go to bed with gilda, but wake up with me.

"nobody deserves anything," evelyn says. "it's simply a matter of who's willing to go and take it for themselves."

• 19 — leopold von sacher-masoch venus in furs
  • ⤹ ★★★☆☆

but you are abut to say, the individual who rebels against the arragements of society is ostracized, branded, stoned. so be it. i am willing to take the risk; my principles are very pagan. i will live my own life as it pleases me. i am willing to do without your hypocritical respect; i prefer to be happy.

"i shall kill myself here before your eyes," i murmured dully. "do what you please," wanda replied with complete indifference. "but let me go to sleep." she yawned aloud. "i am very sleepy."

i love you, only you, and you - you foolish, little man, didn't know that everything was only make-believe and play acting. how hard it often was for me to strike you with the whip, when i would have rather taken your head and covered with kisses. but now we are through with that, aren't we?

"only inordinately fond of pleasure," she replied with a wild sort of humor. "pleasure alone lends value to existence."

the moral of the tale is this: whoever allows himself to be whipped, deserves to be whipped.

• 20 — hermann hesse demian: die geschichte von emil sinclairs jugend
  • ⤹ ★★★★★

most of the things they teach us are no doubt perfectly true and right, but you can see them differently from how teachers do, and they usually make more sense when you do that.

my is story is not for them. it is meant for people who better understand the human heart.

if an animal, or a person, directs his whole attention and will at a particular thing, he attains it. that's all it is. and it's the same with what you're thing. if you look at someone closely enough, you will know more about him than he knows himself.

if you want something from someone, and you look him straight in the eye and he doesn't get uncomfortable at all, then give up! you'll never get what you want from him, never! but that very rarely happens.

i have nothing against honoring and worshipping this god jehovan, not in the least. but i think we should honor everything, and worship everything - the whole world is sacred, not just this artificially partitioned official half!

the way he usually was when he walked and talked with me was only half of him - a demian playing a temporary role, adapting himself to others and going along with things for the sake of politeness.

"fate and character are different names for the same ideia." now i understand what it meant.

"it's so good to know that there's something inside us, and that it knows everything, wants everything, and does everything better than we do!"

i think i like music because it has so little to do with morality. everything else is moral or immoral, and i am looking for something that isn't.

and every religion is beautiful. religion is soul, irrespective of whether you take christian communion or make the pilgrimage to mecca.

"the things we see," pistorius said softly, "are the same things that are in us. there is no reality other than what we have inside us. that is why most people live such unreal lives, because they see external images as reality and never give their own internal world a chance to express itself. you can be happy living like that, but once you know that there is another way, you can no longer choose to follow the path of the many. the path of the many is an easy one, sinclair. ours is hard."

people like us are very lonely, but at least we have each other, and the secret satisfaction of being different, or rebelling, of wanting something out of the ordinary.

everyone who has changed the course of human history, every last one was able to do so only because he was ready for his destiny.

"love cannot ask," she said, "or plead. love must have the strength to reach certainty from within. then one's love is no longer attracted, it attracts. sinclair, your love is drawn to me. if it ever drawns me to it, i wil come. i do'nt want to do anyone a favor, i want to be won."

he had loved and had found himself in the process. most people love only in order to lose themselves.

• 21 — emily bronte wuthering heights
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

'it is for god to punish wicked people; we should learn to forgive.'

i love him; and that, not because he's handsome, nelly, but because he's more myself than i am. whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.

my love for linton i like the foliage in the woods. time will change it, i'm well aware, as winter changes the trees - my love for heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary. nelly, i am heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more than i am always a pleasure to myself - but, as my own being - so, don't talk of our separation again - it's impracticable.

'if i imagined you really wished me to marry isabella, i'd cut my throat!' 'oh, the evil is that i am not jealous, is it?'

i'll try to break their hearts by breaking my own.

what in the name of all that feels, has he to do with books, when i am dying?

i wish i were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them! why am i so changed?

you know as well as i do, that for every though she spends of linton, she spends a thousand on me! ... if he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eight years, as i could i a day.

i shouldn't care what you suffered. i care nothing for your sufferings. why shouldn't you suffer? i do! will you forget me - will you be happy when i am in the earth?

i have not broken your heart - you have broken it - and in breaking it, you have broken mine.

catherine earnshaw, may you not rest, as long as i am living! you said i killed you - haunt me, then! ... be with me always - take any form - drive me mad! only do not leave in this abyss, where i cannot find you! oh, god! it is unutterable! i cannot live without my life! i cannot live without my soul!

i pray every night that i may live after him; because i would rather be miserable than that he should be - that proves i love him better than myself.

i'll believe you are a coward, for yourself, but not a cowardly betrayer of your best friend.

the entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did existe, and that i have lost her!

• 22 — karl marx the communist manifesto
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

free trade. in one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.

at this stage, therefore, the proletarians do not fight their enemies, but the enemies of their enemies, the remnants of absolute monarchy, the landowners, the non-industrial burgeois, the petty burgerois.

capital is therefore not only personal; it is social power.

in burgeois society, living labour is but a mens to increase accumulated labour. in communist society, accumulated labour is but means to widen, to enrich, to promote the existence of the labourer.

communism deprives no man of the power to appropiate the products of society; all that it does is to the deprive him of the power to subjugate the labout of others by means of such appropiations.

the communists have not invented the intervention of society in education; they do but seek to alter the character of that intervention, and to rescue education from the influence of the ruling class.

the proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains. they have a world to win.

• 23 — karl marx das kapital
  • ⤹ ★★★★☆

it is his labour of last week, or last year, that pays for his labout power this week or this year.

it establishes an accumulation of misery, corresponding with an accumulation of capital. accumulation of wealth at one pole is, therefore, at the same time accumulation of misery, agony of toil, slavery, ignorance, brutality, moral degradation, at opposite pole.

over-taxation is not an incident, but rather a principle.

within the capitalist system all methods for raising the social productiveness of labout are brought about at the cost of the individual laboure; all means for the development of production transform themselves into means of domination over, and exploitation of, the producers: they mutilate the labourer into a fragment of a man, degrade him to the level of an appendage of a machine, destroy every remnant of charm in his work and turn into a hated toil; they estrange from him the intellectual potentialities of the labour process in the smae proportion as science is incorporated in it as an independent power; they distort the conditions under which he works, subject him durting the labour process to a despotism the more hateful for its meannes; they transform his life-time into working-time, and drag his wife and child beneath the wheels of the juggernaut of capital.

the loans enable the government to meet extraordinary expenses, without the taxpayers feeling it immediately, but they necessitate as a consequence, increased taxes.

marx thus shows that crises are not caused by mistakes committed by the capitalism, but are, on the contrary, an inevitable result of normal activity of capital.