"Every word is like an unnecessary stain on silence and nothingness"
— Samuel Beckett (via ontheedgeofdarkness)
"I can’t explain what I mean. And even if I could, I’m not sure I’d feel like it."
— J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
"Since love first made the breast an instrument
Of fierce lamenting, by its flame my heart
Was molten to a mirror, like a rose
I pluck my breast apart, that I may hang
This mirror in your sight"
— Allama Iqbal