Quote

Making love to Aurelia was like rummaging through a card catalog in a deserted library, searching for one very obscure, little-read entry on Hungarian poetry.

Marisha Pessl

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Marisha Pessl
Age: 47
Born: 1977
Born: October 26
Writer
Clarkston
Michigan
Making
Entry
Littles
Card
Searching
Little
Obscure
Rummaging
Love
Cards
Hungarian
Like
Library
Hungarians
Poetry
Catalog
Read
Deserted

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God, the boring relative everyone ignores--no one calls, no one writes--until they need a serious favor.
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Good bands you can kind of lose, then come back and realize they're still good.
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Just when you think you've hit rock bottom, you realize you're standing on another trapdoor.
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I was aware now, as ever, that between all people there were First Times You See Them and Last Times you See Them.
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It's funny how the night that changes your life forever starts out like all the others.
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It was never the act itself but our own understanding of it that defeated us, over and over again.
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…how monstrous the people you loved could be.
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It was as if Hannah had sprung a leak and her character, usually so meticulous and contained, was spilling all over the place.
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Some people, every now and then, simply had to have One Too Many, go drifty voiced and slouch mouthed, swimming willfully around in their own sadness as if it were hot springs.
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Some people are as fragile as butterflies and sensitive and it’s your responsibility not to destroy them. Just because you can
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...I couldn't let go of the thought that it had, in fact, been he, restless and moody Heathcliff. Day after day, he floated through all the Wal-Marts in America, searching for me in a million lonely aisles.
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It’s what we chase but never find. It is the mystery of our lives, the understanding that even when we have everything we want it is one day to leave us. It’s the something unseen, the lurking devastation, the darkness that gives our lives dimension.
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To be next to her was to have everything.
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Mortal fear is as crucial a thing to our lives as love. It cuts to the core of our being and shows us what we are. Will you step back and cover your eyes? Or will you have the strength to walk to the precipice and look out?
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Because every one of us has our box, a dark chamber stowing the thing that lanced our heart. It contains what you do everything for, strive for, wound everything around you.
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Life was a freight train barreling toward just one stop, our loved ones streaking past our windows in blurs of color and light. There was no holding on to any of it, and no slowing it down.
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May you walk a lighted path. May you fight for truth - your truth, not someone else's - and may you understand, above all things, that you are the most important concept, theory, and philosophy I have ever known.
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It’s got to be some kind of cult. Anyone offers you Kool-Aid or a hot shower, say no.
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If I scribbled a few words on a cocktail napkin and showed it to my family, they'd proclaim it astonishing and more culturally relevant than the Bible.
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