I kissed him passionately, I even wanted to bruise him, so that he would not be able to forget me.
— Françoise Sagan, Bonjour Tristesse
You say, it’s dark. And in truth, I did place a cloud before your sun. But do you not see how the edges of the cloud are already glowing and turning light.
— Friedrich Nietzsche
Her smile, I’m sure, burnt Rome to the ground.
— Mark Z. Danielewski, “House of Leaves” (via therefined)