Everything around me is evaporating. My whole life, my memories, my imagination...– Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet (via bookoasis)
We die containing a richness of lovers and tribes, tastes we have swallowed,...– Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient (via bookoasis)
The dream of dreaming. How do so many visions collide without rubbing edges? In waking world, the corners catch and tear, but in dream realm it all twists, makes way, begs for confluence.