Siddharth Srivastava

“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.
Through the unknown, remembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.

—T.S. Eliot, from “Little Gidding,” Four Quartets (Gardners Books; Main edition, April 30, 2001) Originally published 1943.”
― T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets

“We die with the dying;
See, they depart, and we go with them.
We are born with the dead:
See, they return, and bring us with them.”
― T.S. Eliot

“I wish I knew what to do with my life, what to do with my heart…I do nothing all day, boredom settles in, I look at the sky so I get to feel even smaller than I already feel and my mind keeps poisoning itself uselessly.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

“I someties think I want to write a book of my life
So that when I meet you - or anyone new - I can hand it over and you can read it
Instead of trying to read me.
You can take it away and decide whether it's worth giving me your time.
You can think about if, the next time we are walking towards
each other, you'll smile without slowing down
Or cross the street and pretend you haven't seen me
Or stop and put an arm round my shoulder, steer me into the nearest pub, and buy me a pint of stout.
Because you'll know, having read the book, that stout is what I drink.
You see elegance of my proposal.
But every time I sit down to write the book, I hit a snag.
I could tell so many stories.
I could be a poet or a magician or a faild mathematician.
I could be happy or soul-sore or lonely.
I could start when I was born, when I was twelve, when I left university.
And the book would be different for each story I choose.
And the book would be true, and untrue, for each.
Our pasts are as unfixed as our futures, if you think about it.
And I like the freedom I have to tell a different story.”
― Stephanie Butland, Lost For Words