There is real love just as there are real ghosts; every person speaks of it, few persons have seen it.
Freedom was the price of privacy.
This time I read the title of the painting: Girl Interrupted at Her Music. Interrupted at her music: as my life had been, interrupted in the music of being seventeen, as her life had been, snatched and fixed on canvas: one moment made to stand still and to stand for all the other moments, whatever they would be or might have been. What life can recover from that?
Are you crazy? It's a common phrase, I know. But it means something particular to me: the tunnels, the security screens, the plastic forks, the shimmering, ever-shifting borderline that like all boundaries beckons and asks to be crossed. I do not want to cross it again.
Tell me that you don’t take that blade and drag it across your skin and pray for the courage to press down.
Something about the goat dancing made me want to cry.
Being crasy doesn't mean to be broken. . . It is you and me amplified", Girl, Interrupted
The unique eludes us; yet we remain faithful to the ideal of it; and in spite of sense and of our merely abstract thinking, it becomes for us the most real thing in the actual world, although for us it is the elusive goal of an infinite quest.
I am persuaded that this method [for calculating the volume of a sphere] will be of no little service to mathematics. For I foresee that once it is understood and established, it will be used to discover other theorems which have not yet occurred to me, by other mathematicians, now living or yet unborn.
When Love cast me out, it was Cruelty who took pity upon me
As human beings are also animals, to manage one million animals gives me a headache.