Ebonie Kertzman

“Gonindu-ne-o prin cetăți închise
din loc în loc, va-mpinge-o-n Iad de veci,
de unde-ntâi invidia ne-o trimise.

Spre-a ta scăpare cred și judec deci
să-ți fiu conducător, și te voi scoate
de-aici, făcând prin loc etern să treci,

s-auzi cum urlă desperate gloate,
să vezi și-antice duhuri osândite,
ce-a doua moarte-a lor și-o strigă toate.”
― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

“Part of the hem floated loose. She spun around again—the fabric tightened like wool on a spindle. She breathed in fear. The boat was farther away. She swung her head around—so was the shore.”
― Yvonne Korshak, Pericles and Aspasia: A Story of Ancient Greece

“So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the
loss, no matter how important the thing that's stolen from us - that's
snatched right out of our hands - even if we are left completely
changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to
play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to the
end of our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off
behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday.
Leaving behind a feeling of insurmountable emptiness...
Maybe, in some distant place, everything is already, quietly, lost.
Or at least there exists a silent place where everything can
disappear, melting together in a single, overlapping figure. And as
we live our lives we discover - drawing toward us the thin threads
attached to each - what has been lost. I closed my eyes and tried to
bring to mind as many beautiful lost things as I could. Drawing them
closer, holding on to them. Knowing all the while that their lives
are fleeting.”
― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart

“I can’t wait for the day when we’ll never have to say ‘goodbye’ to each other again.”
― Stephen Douglass, The Bridge To Caracas