What’s the Most Beautiful Thing You’ve Ever Read?


In May, Reddit asked, “What’s the most beautiful paragraph or sentence you’ve ever read?” Such a good question! I’ve been mulling it over in my head ever since. Here are a few of my best-loved lines, and I’m curious to hear yours…

“She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together.”
—J. D. Salinger, “A Girl I Knew

“In the end, people don’t view their life as merely the average of all of its moments — which, after all, is mostly nothing much plus some sleep. For human beings, life is meaningful because it is a story.”
— Atul Gawande, Being Mortal

“ ‘Supposing a tree fell down, Pooh, when we were underneath it?’
‘Supposing it didn’t,’ said Pooh after careful thought.
Piglet was comforted by this.”
— A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

“Some people say, ‘Never let them see you cry.’ I say, if you’re so mad you could just cry, then cry. It terrifies everyone.”
― Tina Fey, Bossypants

“There are many different kinds of bravery. There’s the bravery of thinking of others before one’s self. Now, your father has never brandished a sword nor fired a pistol, thank heavens. But he has made many sacrifices for his family, and put away many dreams.”

“Where did he put them?”

“He put them in a drawer. And sometimes, late at night, we take them out and admire them. But it gets harder and harder to close the drawer… He does. And that is why he is brave.”
— Conversation between Mrs. Darling and Michael, Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie

“Three things no one has ever said about me:
You make it look so easy.
You are very mysterious.
You need to take yourself more seriously.”
― Jenny Offill, Dept. of Speculation

“Maybe… you’ll fall in love with me all over again.”
“Hell,” I said, “I love you enough now. What do you want to do? Ruin me?”
“Yes. I want to ruin you.”
“Good,” I said. “That’s what I want too.”
— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Plus, nine poems that make me tear up.

What about you? If you have a minute to share your favorite line, poem or book, I’d love to hear…

P.S. Caroline’s five favorite books, and wise words.

(Top photo by Richard Foulser; Peter Pan quote via Momfilter. Reddit thread via Kottke)

  1. Ashley says...

    One of my favorite quotes is from Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer. I

    “I love you also means I love you more than anyone loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else.”

  2. Tatiana says...

    My husband, in a birthday card to me years ago, wrote this: “You consistently take my breath away, replacing it with something better to breathe.” I tear up every time I think about it.

  3. Vanessa says...

    Prayer by John Burnside
    by John Burnside

    Give me a little less
    with every dawn:
    colour, a breath of wind,
    the perfection of shadows,

    till what I find, I find
    because it’s there,
    gold in the seams of my hands
    and the desk lamp, burning.

    This stuck with me at a time of unrequited emotion, and I guess, I liked the aspect of asking for a little less.

  4. Anneka says...

    Only a couple of years late, but steadily reading these and feeling joy, sadness, hope, despair, love. My contribution:

    “The book was in her lap; she had read no further. The power to change one’s life comes from a paragraph, a lone remark. The lines that penetrate us are slender, like the flukes that live in river water and enter the bodies of swimmers. She was excited, filled with strength. The polished sentences had arrived, it seemed, like so many other things, at just the right time. How can we imagine what our lives should be without the illumination of the lives of others?”
    ― James Salter, Light Years

  5. Elinor says...

    A little late to this party, but I’m tearing up reading these comments!

    An old boyfriend introduced me to this poem by R S Thomas. He said something like ‘isn’t this the saddest and most perfect little poem’.

    A Marriage

    We met
    under a shower
    of bird-notes.
    Fifty years passed,
    love’s moment
    in a world in
    servitude to time.
    She was young;
    I kissed with my eyes
    closed and opened
    them on her wrinkles.
    ‘Come,’ said death,
    choosing her as his
    partner for
    the last dance, And she,
    who in life
    had done everything
    with a bird’s grace,
    opened her bill now
    for the shedding
    of one sigh no
    heavier than a feather.

  6. Deana says...

    I can’t quote it, but in the book “Testament of Youth” by Vera Brittain there is a beautiful poem to her lost love.

  7. Laura Filshtein says...

    “Death is the mother of all beauty. Only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers.” – Wallace Stevens

    “What will we be?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe we’ll just be us.”
    -Ernest Hemingway, The Garden of Eden

  8. Emily says...

    I’m REAL late to this one but my favorite quote is “What did you think, that joy was some slight thing?” from the poem Visitation, by Mark Doty. a good life motto to put things in perspective both when things are going well and not so well.

  9. sue says...

    For The Time Being
    by Connie Bensley

    Time slips away
    while we conjecture how to make
    best use of it.

    Waking late, the hours
    already sliding by,
    the day unplanned and shrinking.

    We’ll fill the time, anaesthetise the loss,
    The final hour will come
    and it will pass.

    I love this small poem and tore it out of a magazine several years ago to keep in my note book. The phrase “anaesthetise the loss” sets my mind thinking about all the ways we manage the panic and regret of hours lost, life chances untaken and the unbending movement towards that final hour.

  10. Molly says...

    When you come to one of the many moments in life where you must give an account of yourself, provide a ledger of what you have been, and done, and meant to the world, do not, I pray, discount that you filled a dying man’s days with a sated joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more but rests, satisfied. In this time, right now, that is an enormous thing .” – PAUL KALANITHI

    • Tina, nyc. says...

      Yes!!! Molly these words have been etched on my heart. Not sure how I just got to this post because I’m sooo late to it but so happy to see Paul’s words here. His death is just a tremendous loss to us all. Thank you to Lucy for bringing his book to publication.
      “Vichnaya Pamyat” which in Ukrainian means, eternal memory.

  11. Sil says...

    “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
    and rightdoing there is a field.
    I’ll meet you there.”

  12. Jamie says...

    After a while you learn the subtle difference
    Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
    And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
    And company doesn’t mean security.
    And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
    And presents aren’t promises,
    And you begin to accept your defeats
    With your head up and your eyes open
    With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
    And you learn to build all your roads on today
    Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
    And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
    After a while you learn…
    That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
    So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
    Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
    And you learn that you really can endure…
    That you really are strong
    And you really do have worth…
    And you learn and learn…
    With every good-bye you learn

    -Jorge Luis Borges

    • sue says...

      That IS wonderful

  13. Jen says...

    ​”I don’t think thoughts should be obstructed, they’re meant to run, to fly away, where your legs can’t carry you. I think my thoughts will replace what life won’t give me.” -Claudia Serrano

  14. “Things get broken, and sometime they get repaired, and in most cases, you realize that no matter what gets damaged, life rearranges itself to compensate for your loss, sometimes wonderfully.”

    – A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

    • Ellie Hayes says...

      So much held in a heart in a lifetime. So much held in a heart in a day, an hour, a moment. We are utterly open with no one in the end—not mother and father, not wife or husband, not lover, not child, not friend. We open windows to each but we live alone in the house of the heart. Perhaps we must. Perhaps we could not bear to be so naked, for fear of a constantly harrowed heart. When young we think there will come one person who will savor and sustain us always; when we are older we know this is the dream of a child, that all hearts finally are bruised and scarred, scored and torn, repaired by time and will, patched by force of character, yet fragile and rickety forevermore, no matter how ferocious the defense and how many bricks you bring to the wall. You can brick up your heart as stout and tight and hard and cold and impregnable as you possibly can and down it comes in an instant, felled by a woman’s second glance, a child’s apple breath, the shatter of glass in the road, the words I have something to tell you, a cat with a broken spine dragging itself into the forest to die, the brush of your mother’s papery ancient hand in the thicket of your hair, the memory of your father’s voice early in the morning echoing from the kitchen where he is making pancakes for his children.

      Joyas Voladoras by Brian Doyle

    • Ellie Hayes says...

      whoops – my entry wasn’t supposed to go in as a reply. But wow. A Little Life. What a book.

  15. This is the email that Leonard Cohen wrote to his old friend and lover Marianne when he heard, after years out of communication, that she was dying from cancer. It always reminds me of my grandmother, going on and on and on in life without my grandfather, who passed away 14 years ago. They would have celebrated 65 years of marriage last month.

    “Well Marianne, it’s come to this time when we are really so old and our bodies are falling apart and I think I will follow you very soon. Know that I am so close behind you that if you stretch out your hand, I think you can reach mine. And you know that I’ve always loved you for your beauty and your wisdom, but I don’t need say anything more about that because you know all about that. But now, I just want to wish you a very good journey. Goodbye old friend. Endless love, see you down the road.”

    • Mandy says...

      Came back to reread some of these comments. This one just made me tear up. Thanks for sharing!

  16. Laura Collins says...

    “My mission, should I choose to accept it, is to find peace with exactly who and what I am. To take pride in my thoughts, my appearance, my talents, my flaws, and to stop this incessant worrying that I can’t be loved as I am.” –Anais Nin

    Every few months I have to remind myself of this quote. I try to take time to really appreciate the words and allow myself to truly find peace with who I am.

  17. Erin says...

    Like a bird on a wire, like a drunk in a midnight choir, I have tried all my life to be free.
    – Leonard Cohen

    I told my mom this lyric while we were chatting during the intermission of a Christmas concert. It is beautiful in itself, but we both smiled, remembering a man at our church who always sang so loudly and joyfully and horrifically bad. He wasn’t drunk, but he was free. My mom died a little over two years ago. Another thing I said to her was, “You smell like Dove soap.” My second baby Daniel was a week old. My husband was at my cousin’s bachelor party, and I called my mom to come because Daniel wouldn’t stop crying. She came in her pyjamas with no bra. Of course Daniel had stopped crying by the time she arrived. We sat on the edge if the bed and looked at him. That’s when I told her. Her eyes widened in prim horror at the words, “You smell…” and then relaxed in relief as I finished the sentence. “Oh,” she said, “I just had a bath.” Her pyjamas were pink. I think of it all the time in the bath and shower. I miss my mother.

    • Harriet says...

      Hi Erin,

      Just felt compelled to say that you have a beautiful talent for the written word, all the little details that make it so vivid. Your story brought me to tears.

      Your mother sounds like a wonderful woman and I’m sorry for your loss.

    • Bisola says...

      Hi Erin,
      You have an eye for detail and an incredible gift. Thanks for sharing your story, you made me miss her💙. Sorry for your loss.

    • Jessica says...

      Erin, this is so beautiful. I lost my Mom a little over a year ago and we both shared a deep love for the written words put to music. Bob Dylan and the Beatles get me every time. It’s odd… as devastating it was (and still terribly is) to lose her, I also think it’s the most genuinely beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced, going through life and death with her. Thank you for sharing your story, it made me smile through tears of love.

    • sue says...

      The wonder of love for parents, especially as they grow older and we know our time with them is nearly up…

      Hi Jessica, your experience of the profound beauty of experiencing life and death with your beloved mother made my stomach leap with recognition of what I felt for my dear Dad, who died 13 years ago. We were a loving but perhaps somewhat inhibited family. The day were were all 4 together, weeping unreservedly at his diagnosis of a brain tumour made me treasure the moment in its beautiful, pure, precious and unembarrassed expression of our love for him and our little family.

    • Anneka says...

      Such beautiful, intimate details of your mother, and your relationship to her.

  18. Nigerian Girl says...

    “I am the woman who asked for tenderness and got raped in return. I am the woman who has done her sentence. I am the woman who still believes, broken-heartedly, in love.” – When I Hit You: or, A Portrait of the Writer as a Young Wife by Meena Kandasamy.

  19. L says...

    So beautifully said, thank you.

  20. Ruth says...

    Forgive me if someone already posted this. I didn’t read all 750 comments!

    “Later she remembered all the hours of the afternoon as happy- one of those uneventful times that seem at the moment only a link between past and future pleasure but turn out to have been the pleasure itself.”

    Tender is the Night
    F. Scott Fitzgerald

  21. Jimjam says...

    If there is a secular equivalent of standing in a great spired Cathedral with marble pillars and streams of mystic light slanting through two-tier Gothic windows, it would be watching children in their little bedrooms fast asleep. Girls especially.
    Don Delillo, White Noise

  22. Courtney D says...

    “As he watched Joe stand, blazing, on the fire escape, Sammy felt an ache in his chest that turned out to be, as so often occurs when memory and desire conjoin with a transient effect of weather, the pang of creation. The desire he felt, watching Joe, was unquestionably physical, but in the sense that Sammy wanted to inhabit the body of his cousin, not possess it. It was, in part, a longing–common enough among the inventors of heroes–to be someone else; to be more than the result of two hundred regimens and scenarios and self-improvement campaigns that always ran afoul of his perennial inability to locate an actual self to be improved. Joe Kavalier had an air of competence, of faith in his own abilities, that Sammy, by means of constant effort over the whole of his life, had finally learned only to fake. ”
    ― Michael Chabon, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay

  23. those are such beautiful shares. Loved them :D

  24. Colleen K says...

    So many, but this one has stayed with me most recently:

    “How many fragments of ourselves were scattered, as if to live were to explode into splinters.” The Story of the Lost Child, Elena Ferrante

  25. Maria says...

    “It was the time when they loved each other best, without hurry or excess, when both were most conscious of and grateful for their incredible victories over adversity. Life would still present them with other mortal trails, of course, but that no longer mattered: they were on the other shore. ”
    ― Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

    • Yda Balcazar-Corey says...

      My favorite novel ever! I read it in Spanish many many years ago…

    • L says...

      These lovely words are music to my ears. Thank you.

    • jade says...

      I am reading this book at the moment! Loving it!

  26. Blythe says...

    “I go through pictures of mom and think of them in terms of thefts: That was back when mom could walk. That’s when she could stand. She could still talk then. A picture of her swimming with my son a dozen years ago jolted me into remembering another life, a dream I once had, a parallel universe.

    She always smiled at me, every time I came through the door. Until the very end, when her eyes no longer followed me. She had been my fading ghost; I became hers.

    She went inward, eyes on a new destination. She was looking at a ship, I think; in my mind, she walked to it, proud and tall and smiling. She went into the West.

    Take me with you, I said.


    I can be both places.

    Wait for me.”

  27. Finnegan says...

    “Besides, speech is a rolling-mill that always thins out the sentiment.” — Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

  28. Anna Vitale says...

    i love all these comments and have come back time and again for inspiration from them! this passage from The History of Love by Nicole Krauss, especially the sentence, “The collected the world in small handfuls.”

    “Once upon a time, there was a boy. He lived in a village that no longer exists, on the edge of a field that no longer exists, where everything was discovered and everything was possible. A stick could be a sword. A pebble could be a diamond. A tree was a castle.

    Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a house across the field from a girl who no longer exists. They made up a thousand games. She was the Queen and he was the King. In the autumn light, her hair shone like a crown. They collected the world in small handfuls. When the sky grew dark, they parted with leaves in their hair.

    Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering.”

  29. Lani says...

    And P.S. the comments on your blog are always so thoughtful and rich. I can get lost in them! I love the community you’ve created where so much value is shared on a daily basis. Thank you for that. :)

    • sue says...


  30. Lani says...

    Something about this poem by Mary Oliver captures the mystery of knowing someone and is so incredibly beautiful to me:


    All of a sudden she began to whistle. By all of a sudden
    I mean that for more than thirty years she had not
    whistled. It was thrilling. At first I wondered, who was
    in the house, what stranger? I was upstairs reading, and
    she was downstairs. As from the throat of a wild and
    cheerful bird, not caught but visiting, the sounds war-
    bled and slid and doubled back and larked and soared.

    Finally I said, Is that you? Is that you whistling? Yes, she
    said. I used to whistle, a long time ago. Now I see I can
    still whistle. And cadence after cadence she strolled
    through the house, whistling.

    I know her so well, I think. I thought. Elbow and an-
    kle. Mood and desire. Anguish and frolic. Anger too.
    And the devotions. And for all that, do we even begin
    to know each other? Who is this I’ve been living with
    for thirty years?

    This clear, dark, lovely whistler?

  31. Louise says...

    (Spoiler). From the last line of a novel from a gay man (during the rise of the HIV/AIDS epidemic) reflecting upon his life. He thinks this as he as he also thinks he will test positive for HIV as he will find out his results the next day (but the book beautifully ends here).

    “The emotion was startling. It was a sort of terror, made up of emotions from every stage of his short life, weaning, homesickness, envy and self-pity; but he felt that the self-pity belonged to a larger pity. It was a love of the world that was shockingly unconditional.”
    -The Line of Beauty, Allan Hollinghurst

  32. Janice says...

    From the Aeneid, by Virgil – “A joy it will be one day, perhaps, to remember even this.”

    • Joanna Goddard says...

      that’s is really beautiful.

    • sue says...


  33. Hanna says...

    “Human nature is not obliged to be consistent.”
    – L. M. Montgomery

  34. …And for us this is the end…But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”
    The Last Battle, by C.S. Lewis.

    The idea of the afterlife being the real deal and this life just being a shadow is so incredibly comforting.

  35. J D Salinger and AA Milne are top of the list for me. I love the fact that you can often find such pure wisdom and logic in children’s books. Pen x

  36. “She pulled in her horizon like a great fish-net. Pulled it from around the waist of the world and draped it over her shoulder, so much of life in its meshes! She called in her soul to come and see.”
    Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

    • Thank you for sharing this special passage.

  37. Every line in Neruda’s The Book of Questions

  38. Emilie says...

    “Everything carries me to you.
    As if everything that exists;
    aromas, lights, metals,
    were little boats
    that sail
    toward those isles of yours that wait for me.”

    • Beth says...

      This is one of the most beautiful quotes I have read. It encompasses my feelings for a particular person better than any words I have ever seen…

    • Katie says...

      That is truly beautiful. What is it from? Who wrote it?

    • Maria says...

      It’s one of Pablo Neruda’s poems.

  39. Jordon says...

    “Ishmael sat inside for a brief time with his coat wrapped tightly around him. He listened to the world turned silent by the snow; there was absolutely nothing to hear. The silence of the world roared steadily in his ears while he came to recognize that he did not belong here, he had no place in the tree any longer. Some much younger people should find this tree, hold to it tightly as their deepest secret, as he had with her. For them it might stave off what he could not help but see with clarity: that the world was silent and cold and bare and that in this lay its terrible beauty.”

    – Snow Falling on Cedars

  40. Trishita says...

    Everything I love about life is a topic covered in your blogs! Thank you for being here every day!
    Your blogs have become a morning ritual. You cannot begin to imagine how much it helps me through life, and makes me laugh!

  41. Jonathan says...

    “Of everything I have seen, it’s you I want to go on seeing: of everything I’ve touched, it’s your flesh I want to go on touching. I love your orange laughter. I am moved by the sight of you sleeping

    What am I do do, love, loved one? I don’t know how others love or how people loved in the past. I live, watching you, loving you. Being in love is my nature.”

    – Pablo Neruda

  42. Jonathan says...

    “Of everything I have seen, it’s you I want to go on seeing: of everything I’ve touched, it’s your flesh I want to go on touching. I love your orange laughter. I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.

    What am I to do, love, loved one? I don’t know how others love or how people loved in the past. I live, watching you, loving you. Being in love is my nature.”

    – Pablo Neruda

    • L says...

      These poems are as beautiful as love songs sung quietly in my ear.

  43. Though dreams can be deceiving like faces are to hearts. They serve for sweet relieving. When fantasy and reality,lie, to far, apart.

  44. Megan says...

    “Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”
    Fredrick Buechner

    “Someday, somewhere- anywhere, unfailingly, you’ll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life.”
    Pablo Neruda

    “Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.”
    Jonathan Safran Foer

  45. Charity says...

    Imagine your hand
    Holding a treasure passing it on
    Imagine a small happy hand
    Holding this treasure

    I saw this at an art exhibit in Brisbane, Australia, and was really touched :)

  46. Peem says...

    There is so much laughing and crying during that first year of our son’s life. The laughter and tears are each of us bursting through our own skin to get to one another.

    Love Warrior: A Memoir pg. 93

  47. Andre O-Waterhouse says...

    The moon was alone one evening, shining in the midnight sky. Although she was surrounded by myriads of tiny, sparkly stars, she felt as if there was no one to understand her. She eagerly searched the skies for a friend, perhaps a meteor, with whom to discuss the joys and sorrows of her life. But there was nobody.

    On the other side of the world, the sun yawned and awoke to shine his light upon the blue-green temples of God. He heard the call to worship, and saw the waves of people bowing and praying. He felt full of good will and charity towards the masses of God’s servitors. Perhaps they were not holy, but at least they were faithful.

    The moon stayed alone, suspended in the sky with none to touch her. A tiny star whispered to her of a great being, the sun, who brought joy and light to the world. She listened with interest, for it seemed that once, a long time ago, she had seen a being such as this. Beautiful as he was, the sun seemed always just beyond her reach. She would visit the places where he had been, and would always find that he had just left. Those who knew him spoke of his wonder and his glory, and she felt unworthy to be in his presence.

    Now the sun was unaware of her yearning, for he was too busy making the crops grow and warming the world. Those who wished his light had only to look upward to heaven and he was there, beaming down upon them.

    The moon continued to follow the sun, always coming nearer to him, always hearing that he had just left that portion of the sky, or was just over the next mountain range. Where before there was despair, now she was ever more hopeful, for she knew that she was approaching his presence.

    She came closer and closer, until one glorious day came when she stood before him, naked and unafraid. The world looked up and saw only blackness – in the middle of the day. But the moon stood mid-way between the sun and the earth, and all of his glory was for her.

    His light blotted out all of her loneliness, all of her pain, all of her past. She stood bathed in wonder before him, and his light filled her soul.

    She passed away from him full of light and joy, and though his light was too bright to remember, it was also too powerful to forget. She was dizzy with wonder. As time passed, it seemed that she once had been a being full of light, yet it was so long ago…

    Such is the soul of man, dear one. It yearns for the glorious light of Truth, which destroys all loneliness and memory. The many lives of man are as many times as the moon sees the sun – after each, nothing remains but a vague idea of a beauty once seen. And there is always the longing, and always the return.

  48. “She may only have been 21, but she had already nurtured many enthusiasms, which she had abandoned as quickly as she had taken them up. She wasn’t afraid of difficulties; what frightened her was being forced to choose one particular path.”

    – Paulo Coelho, Brida

  49. Paula Roberton says...

    In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whispering and the champagne and the stars.
    The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald

  50. “that there are no random acts. That we are all connected, that you can no more separate one life from another, than you can separate the breeze from the wind.” The Five People you Meet in Heaven – Mitch Albom

  51. Renata says...

    “I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.
    – Atticus Finch”
    ― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

  52. Emily says...

    “Do you know what a summer rain is?

    To start with, pure beauty striking the summer sky, awe-filled respect absconding with your heart, a feeling of insignificance at the very heart of the sublime, so fragile and swollen with the majesty of things, trapped, ravished, amazed by the bounty of the world.

    And then, you pace up and down a corridor and suddenly enter a room full of light. Another dimension, a certainty just given birth. The body is no longer a prison, your spirit roams the clouds, you possess the power of water, happy days are in store, in this new birth.

    Just as teardrops, when they are large and round and compassionate, can leave a long strand washed clean of discord, the summer rain as it washes away the motionless dust can bring to a person’s soul something like endless breathing.” The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbary

  53. Lindsay says...

    I recently read your brother-in-law’s book, and I read the last page over and over and cried every time. I am rarely struck like that by what I read. I’m glad you relinked this post as it truly is one of the most beautiful things I have ever read.

    “There is perhaps only one thing to say to this infant, who is all future, overlapping briefly with me, whose life, barring the improbable, is all but past. That message is simple: When you come to one of the many moments in life where you must give an account of yourself, provide a ledger of what you have been, and done, and meant to the world, do not, I pray, discount that you filled a dying man’s days with a sated joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more but rests, satisfied. In this time, right now, that is an enormous thing.” – Paul Kalanithi

    • Olivia Seal says...

      F&%^! that just killed me. floored.

    • Yes. This is surely the most beautiful, heartbreaking, lovely thing ever written.

    • Mimi says...

      Nothing else comes close.

    • Elle says...

      Almost unbearable to read, yet I do. Over and over again.

    • Patty says...

      This passage from that book immediately came to my mind too! One of the most beautiful things I have read!!!!

    • Meg L says...

      I read this a couple years ago and was inspired by it and even included some of the words in my wedding vows. Reading this caption again today though, for the first time since having my son, it means even more.

    • Shannon says...

      This was one of the only books I read during my daughter’s first year of life. I sobbed uncontrollably then as I held my then 8-month old, and my lungs are constricted now reading those lines a year later. So raw, poignant, and beautiful.

    • Anneka says...

      What a gift to give his daughter!

  54. Sarah says...

    This is my favourite:

    “I remember one morning getting up at dawn. There was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling. And I… I remember thinking to myself: So this is the beginning of happiness, this is where it starts. And of course there will always be more…never occurred to me it wasn’t the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment, right then.”
    ― Michael Cunningham, The Hours

  55. Jane says...

    I’ve always loved these two quotes from Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer:

    “I put my hand on him. Touching him was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against his shoulder. The outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn’t explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?”

    “That was delightful,” Mr. Black said. “Thank you,” she said. I asked her how she knew all of that stuff. She said, “I know about this building because I love this building.” That gave me heavy boots, because it reminded me of the lock that I still hadn’t found, and how until I found it, I didn’t love Dad enough. “What is it about this building?” Mr. Black asked. She said, “If I had an answer, it wouldn’t really be love, would it?”

    • Shannon says...

      Such a beautiful book! I also thought of this quote:

      “Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.”

      It’s always stayed with me.

  56. Louise says...

    “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there,”

    L.P. Hartley, The Go Between

    • Jess says...

      Reading this right now and LOVING it.

  57. Helena says...

    This is from my favourite book- All that I am by Anna Funder:

    “I tried to catch glimpses of her as other might see her. I watched her chat with the vendors across the markets stalls in broken Italian and shameless hand gestures. Or press her face to the wind on the ferry bow; step steaming and unselfconscious out of the shower. When you love someone you cannot see around them, you cannot get their human measure. You cannot see how someone so huge to you, so miraculous and unfathomable, can fit, complete, into that small skin”

  58. Autumn says...

    Just about every line in Jonathan Safran Foer’s book “Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is my favorite. Every line is lovely and sad and beautiful.

    “Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.”
    “We could imagine all sorts of universes like this one, but this is the one that happened.”
    “You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”
    “I hope you never think about anything as much as I think about you”

    • Lindsey M says...

      Agreed. I adore that book and often find myself thinking of some of the lines.

    • Nancey says...

      Revisiting these comments which are so beautiful. Just finished this book, it is a treasure of words.

  59. Jules says...

    I absolutely LOVE this quote about reading.

    “Because when I read, I don’t really read; I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.” – Bohumil Hrabal, “Too Loud a Solitude”

  60. “You flicker. I cannot touch you.
    I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns.”

    – Sylvia Plath, Poppys in July

    This one always leaves an impression on me.

  61. One of my favorites:

    “Lily [the dog] ran off with her stick, bounded up the steep hillside, then doubled back to check in with me. She loves me the way I love Jesus, falling into a trance of despair when she can’t feel me.”

    Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith by Anne Lamott

  62. Angie says...

    “Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
    I am haunted by waters.”
    ― Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories

    • Leslie Wild says...

      This one was the first to pop into my head, too! Love it.

  63. ” While the astronauts, heroes forever, spent mere hours on the moon, I have remained in this new world for nearly thirty years. I know that my achievement is quite ordinary. I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am bewildered by each mile I have travelled, each meal I have eaten, each person I have known, each room in which I have slept. As ordinary as it all appears, there are times when it is beyond my imagination.”

    – The Third and Final Continent by Jhumpa Lahiri

  64. Elle says...

    “My bounty is as boundless as the sea. My love is deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have. For both are infinite.” -Shakespeare

  65. Laura says...

    “On the girl’s brown legs there were many small white scars. I was thinking, Do those scars cover the whole of you, like the stars and the moons on your dress? I thought that would be pretty too, and I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make an agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”
    ―’Little Bee’ by Chris Cleave

  66. Leah says...

    “Then there you lie like the one warm spark in the heart of an arctic crystal.” – Herman Melville, Moby Dick

  67. Monica says...

    Just found this post and I’m loving it! I have to leave this here:

    Let everything happen to you. Beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final. -Rainer Maria Rilke

  68. McKenna says...

    “War is jealous of ordinary beauty. It seeks to destroy out of spite. For all its size and fury, war has no enduring power. The most powerful things are small: the taste on our tongues of our favorite childhood foods, the rub of skin against skin.” -The Strangeness of Beauty

    And to go with that:
    “Beauty to her, as to all who have felt, lay not in the thing, but in what the thing symbolized.” -Tess of the D’Ubervilles

  69. Lisa says...

    Even After All this time The Sun never says to the Earth, “You owe me.” Look What happens With a love like that, It lights the whole sky.

  70. Erin Sparks says...

    “We loved with a love that was more than love.”
    – Edgar Allan Poe

    That line gets me every time.

  71. Everpresent, says...

    “At the still point, there dance is”
    -Four Quartets, T.S.Elliot

    “Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things only mean beauty”
    -Oscar Wilde, (The Preface)The Picture of Dorian Gray

    “Contemplation is the only luxury that costs nothing”
    -Dodie Smith, I Capture the Castle

    “Did I not once upon a time, have a lovable childhood, heroic and fabulous to be written on leaves of gold,an excess of good fortune?”
    -Rimbaud Martin

    “You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing”
    -E.B White, Charlotte’s Web

    “If you have good thoughts they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely”
    -Roald Dahl, Matilda

    “Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with you hair”
    -Kahlil Gibran

    “All religion, my friend, is simply evolved out of fraud, fear, greed, imagination and poetry”
    -Edgar Allan Poe

    • Mel says...

      That Gibran quote has been my favorite for years. Thank you for posting it.

  72. Sharon in Scotland says...

    I’m a bit late to this particular party, I spent the weekend reading most of the posts, ending up with a headache and dehydration because I was weeping so much.
    Words that touch me:

    “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle”

    “I am the master of my fate,
    I am the Captain of my soul”

    This one I have only just found and absolutely nails how I feel. I’m trying on-line dating and as a black women in her 50’s in the Highlands of Scotland…………………………….it’s proving……………….interesting!

    “A great fire burns within me, but no-one stops to warm themselves at it and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke”
    Vincent Van Gogh

    • Oh, Sharon in Scotland! This makes me want to take you out for a glass of wine! You sound completely lovely :)

    • Elle says...

      I’d like to join you guys for glass of wine, please! And some chips, too because ….


  73. Jessica says...

    I love this post! And revisiting it every now and again. Wanted to share one of my own favorite pieces of writing. It’s a song by the band Thrice called “Anthology.” I’m not a huge fan of theirs otherwise but this song always makes me happy-sad. I already know it’s going to play a part in my wedding someday – and I’m single as hell! Here are the lyrics:

    Our lives built on tin cans and string
    But the cornerstone laid is a wondrous and beautiful thing
    Sure in the ground

    While the North wind is taking its toll
    You have helped me to find my way back and to anchor my soul
    Safe in the sound

    Oh you know me
    Oh and I know you
    And I know that
    We can see this through

    I’m brack, baring my bones
    Said if we heard the howling
    I’d run out to face it alone
    To meet it half way

    But I’ve still got badges to earn
    So keep sifting my soul
    Cause I think that I’m starting to learn
    To love you that way

    Oh you know me
    Oh and I know you
    And I know that
    We can see this through

    It’s true that you could snap my neck
    I trust you’ll save my life instead
    Cause our love is a loyalty sworn
    If we hold to our hope
    Then I know we can weather the storm
    Whatever they say
    Come what may

    Oh you know me
    Oh and I know you
    And I know that
    We can see this through

  74. there were 666 comments, so i had to add one for good luck!

    all these quotes are so beautiful.

    thank you for this.

  75. I haven’t actually read the book but have loved this line so much especially in times of uncertainty:

    “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”

    ― Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God
    I always love these little musings xo

    • Yessss one of my favorites EVER.

  76. “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

    Albert Einstein

  77. Maggie says...

    Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place
    Iain S. Thomas

  78. //Trust me, this long read is worth it! I always fall in love with this poem <3


    Here’s what I’ve got, the reasons why our marriage
    might work: Because you wear pink but write poems
    about bullets and gravestones. Because you yell
    at your keys when you lose them, and laugh,
    loudly, at your own jokes. Because you can hold a pistol,
    gut a pig. Because you memorize songs, even commercials
    from thirty years back and sing them when vacuuming.
    You have soft hands. Because when we moved, the contents
    of what you packed were written inside the boxes.
    Because you think swans are overrated.
    Because you drove me to the train station. You drove me
    to Minneapolis. You drove me to Providence.
    Because you underline everything you read, and circle
    the things you think are important, and put stars next
    to the things you think I should think are important,
    and write notes in the margins about all the people
    you’re mad at and my name almost never appears there.
    Because you make that pork recipe you found
    in the Frida Khalo Cookbook. Because when you read
    that essay about Rilke, you underlined the whole thing
    except the part where Rilke says love means to deny the self
    and to be consumed in flames. Because when the lights
    are off, the curtains drawn, and an additional sheet is nailed
    over the windows, you still believe someone outside
    can see you. And one day five summers ago,
    when you couldn’t put gas in your car, when your fridge
    was so empty—not even leftovers or condiments—
    there was a single twenty-ounce bottle of Mountain Dew,
    which you paid for with your last damn dime
    because you once overheard me say that I liked it.

    —from Rattle #31, Summer 2009

  79. “She was the still point of the turning world” – Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides (paraphrasing T.S. Eliot, I assume)

  80. “The lights grow brighter as the earth lurches away from the sun, and now the orchestra is playing yellow cocktail music, and the opera of voices pitches a key higher.”
    -The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald

    “And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”
    ― Roald Dahl

  81. Sadie says...

    “There is a corner of the sea that is deep but not so deep that it’s black. It’s the blue of a blueberry, violet in its heart, though this blue allows light through its million unseeable pores. The hue is evenly painted but electric, a klieg light pushing through a gel of cyan.” — Dave Eggers, You Shall Know Our Velocity

  82. Suzann says...

    “If I can stop but one heart from breaking, I shall not have lived in vain.”
    Emily Dickinson

  83. This has been one of my favorites for a long time:
    “We lead our lives like water flowing down a hill, going more or less in one direction until we splash into something that forces us to find a new course.”
    ― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

    And this, because sometimes the only one you can save is yourself. No matter how terrible that feels.

    Mary Oliver
    The Journey

    One day you finally knew
    what you had to do, and began,
    though the voices around you
    kept shouting
    their bad advice–
    though the whole house
    began to tremble
    and you felt the old tug
    at your ankles.
    “Mend my life!”
    each voice cried.
    But you didn’t stop.
    You knew what you had to do,
    though the wind pried
    with its stiff fingers
    at the very foundations,
    though their melancholy
    was terrible.
    It was already late
    enough, and a wild night,
    and the road full of fallen
    branches and stones.
    But little by little,
    as you left their voices behind,
    the stars began to burn
    through the sheets of clouds,
    and there was a new voice
    which you slowly
    recognized as your own,
    that kept you company
    as you strode deeper and deeper
    into the world,
    determined to do
    the only thing you could do–
    determined to save
    the only life you could save.

    • Elle says...


  84. emilyp says...

    I read All Quiet On The Western Front fairly young and while the war in Iraq was in full swing, and when I got to this sentence I had to go back and reread it several times.

    “The days stand like angels in gold and blue, incomprehensible, above the ring of annihilation.”

    It’s towards the end of the novel, as our main character is being physically and emotionally ground down by the whole war experience. Disillusionment with US involvement in the middle east was also peaking, and that one little sentence somehow drove home to me the horror of armed conflict. And it’s not even graphic.

  85. Quietly, he said, “If we’re not careful life becomes very small.” We walked the rest of the way home in silence. ~Dominic Smith, The Beautiful Miscellaneous

  86. Michelle says...

    I love that so many people mentioned Cheryl Strayed’s writings from her Dear Sugar column. My favorite column, one I have returned to religiously every few months since she published it in 2011, is “The Ghost Ship that Didn’t Carry Us.” The letter-writer is inquiring about the choice of whether or not to have a child, but her response both addresses his question and becomes a more general meditation on the choices we make, how to love both what is and what never was without regretting those choices, because they make us who we are. Here is the ending of the essay/response:

    “I’ll never know and neither will you of the life you don’t choose. We’ll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn’t carry us. There’s nothing to do but salute it from the shore.”

    • Kristen says...

      This line is my all time favorite from Cheryl Strayed. Thank you for reminding me!

    • Erin says...

      Thank you, this is powerful.

    • Ellie Hayes says...

      This has stayed with me since the moment I read that miraculous book.
      And I have shared it with my three children, all in their twenties. It is beautiful and true…..and somehow comforting that this is universal. We all have a sister life we didn’t lead (or cannot lead), and all we can do is watch that ghost ship that didn’t carry us and “salute it from the shore.”

  87. Mariah says...

    One of my favorite lyrics that has always struck me as being beautifully written:

    “Your voice is echoing again
    Through catacombs inside my mind
    And I’ve been dreaming of revenge
    To make you love me more than even you can try
    All words converge to where you are”

    Dan Wilson – Breathless Lyrics

  88. Haley says...

    “The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds. And that’s what you’ve given me. That’s what I’d hoped to give you forever” – Nicholas Sparks

  89. Keri says...

    “These feelings resembled memories, but memories of what? It seemed one could remember things that had never been.”

    Leo Tolstoy, Childhood

    “But you can’t give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they’re strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That’s how you’ll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You’ll end up looking at the sky.”

    Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s

  90. Samantha says...

    Anything written by Julio Cortazar is strangely beautiful. Sometimes you relate, sometimes you wish to relate. Hopscotch is so painfully beautiful, I can’t find another way to describe it. There’s nothing pretty about the story, it’s almost tragic, but he has the most agile prose to take a less than perfect situation and paint it in a beautiful way.
    “Of all our feelings the only one which really doesn’t belong to us is hope. Hope belongs to life, it’s life itself defending itself.”
    “My love, I don’t love you for you, nor for me, nor for the both of us, I don’t love you because the blood calls me to love you, I love you because you’re not mine, because you’re on the other side, there where you invite me to jump but I cannot make the jump.”
    “Nothing is lost if one has the courage to proclaim that all is lost and we must begin anew.”
    “In quoting others, we cite ourselves.”
    “What most people call loving consists of picking out a woman and marrying her. They pick her out, I swear, I’ve seen them. As if you could pick in love, as if it were not a lightning bolt that splits your bones and leaves you staked out in the middle of the courtyard.”
    “I’m tormented by your love that doesn’t work for me as a bridge, because a bridge cannot hold itself on one side.”
    It’s so much more beautiful in Spanish, I feel lucky to have been able to read it in the language and the way it was intended.

    • Lara says...

      I love these, thank you so much – I look forward to reading his books

  91. Dawn says...

    “He has one of his wistful, fanciful thoughts- that somehow he’s summoned from his mind not a fifty-year old memory of the moment he first saw this woman but the actual moment itself. After all, isn’t it the same sea, the same sun, the same them?
    -Jess Walter, Beautiful Ruins

  92. Audrea Rachelle says...

    One of the most famous chapters of the Bible, so beautifully written. It’s all about love. I wish more lived by it.

    Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profits me nothing.

    Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

    Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.

    …And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.
    1 Corinthians 13 – The Love Chapter

    • Of course the most beautiful and perfect words ever written would have to come from the ONE who is the word. Thanks. I was looking to see what others have chosen as their favorites.

    • Amen!
      I too have enjoyed reading the comments but was keen to see if anyone had included a passage of truth. Thank you Audrea! Beautiful words that are so good for the soul.

  93. Liz says...

    From The Great Gatsy,
    “He smiled understandingly—much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced—or seemed to face—the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey. “

    • This is my favourite passage from The Great Gatsby. It hits a soft spot for me as my love is in the Navy so I am all too familiar with the pain of goodbye.
      “On the last afternoon before he went abroad, he sat with Daisy in his arms for a long, silent time. It was a cold fall day, with fire in the room and her cheeks flushed. Now and then she moved and he changed his arm a little, and once he kissed her dark shining hair. The afternoon had made them tranquil for a while, as if to give them a deep memory for the long parting the next day promised. They had never been closer in their month of love, nor communicated more profoundly one with another, than when she brushed silent lips against his coat’s shoulder or when he touched the end of her fingers, gently, as though she were asleep.”

  94. Emily says...

    “There are thoughts which are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees.”
    -Victor Hugo

    ” Beneath my hands
    your small breasts
    are the upturned bellies
    of breathing fallen sparrows.

    Wherever you move
    I hear the sounds of closing wings
    of falling wings.

    I am speechless
    because you have fallen beside me
    because your eyelashes
    are the spines of tiny fragile animals.

    I dread the time
    when your mouth
    begins to call me hunter.

    When you call me close
    to tell me
    your body is not beautiful
    I want to summon
    the eyes and hidden mouths
    of stone and light and water
    to testify against you.

    I want them
    to surrender before you
    the trembling rhyme of your face
    from their deep caskets.

    When you call me close
    to tell me
    your body is not beautiful
    I want my body and my hands
    to be pools
    for your looking and laughing. ”
    -Leonard Cohen

    • Sunny says...

      Where is the Hugo from? Trying to find it!

  95. sadie says...

    I just love the photograph associated with this post. :)

  96. Julie says...

    I love Susan Sarandon’s line in Shall We Dance
    ” We need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet… I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things, the bad things, the terrible things, the mundane things… all of it, all of the time, every day. You’re saying ‘Your life will not go unnoticed because I will notice it. Your life will not go un-witnessed because I will be your witness’.”

    • This IS beautiful!

    • Jade says...

      Wow, that’s powerful! Thanks for sharing :)

    • Jade says...

      Wow, that’s awesome! Thanks for sharing :)

    • I love that line! I remember not liking the movie so much but loving this line. It’s so beautiful and exactly right. Thanks for reminding me of it :)

    • Laura says...


    • Zoe says...

      I am re-reading this post and comments (it was linked from Joanna’s 10 year anniversary post) and I want to join the voices on this one! I think of this line from this movie often! Who says ro-cos are fluff?!?!?

  97. Sasha says...

    “I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
    to look at the sky and pray to God,
    and to wander long before evening
    to tire my superfluous worries.
    When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
    and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
    I compose happy verses
    about life’s decay, decay and beauty.
    I come back. The fluffy cat
    licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
    and the fire flares bright
    on the saw-mill turret by the lake.
    Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
    occasionally breaks the silence.
    If you knock on my door
    I may not even hear.”

    Anna Akhmatova

  98. Sasha says...

    Actually, on your blog the most beautiful things I’ve read were your brother-in-law’s essay How Long Have I Got Left? and his letter to his daughter. I was also really moved by the story of the mother who had a stillborn baby. I had a stillborn baby three weeks ago, and I just went back to find it and reread it. I may stop reading here for a while, as I want to take a break from all things babies, but I wanted you to know that those posts were beautiful.

    • Heather says...

      I’m sorry and if I knew you I would give you a hug.

    • Cindy says...

      I share your sadness and I will keep a piece of it safe in my heart.

    • Joanna Goddard says...

      i’m so sorry for your loss, sasha. i’m just seeing your comment now. i’m just so sorry. i’ll be thinking of you and your baby today, and holding you in my thoughts.

  99. Julie says...

    “The real things haven’t changed. It is still best to be honest and truthful; to make the most of what we have; to be happy with simple pleasures; and have courage when things go wrong.”
    ― Laura Ingalls Wilder

    • sonia says...


  100. Laura B. says...

    There are so many good ones out there, but this quote, which was written in a letter by the artist Feliz Gonzalez Torres in 1988, really struck me:

    “Don’t be afraid of the clocks, they are our times, time has been so generous to us. We imprinted time with the sweet taste of victory. We conquered fate by meeting at a certain time, therefore we give back credit where it is due: time. We are synchronized, now and forever. I love you.”

    • Haley says...

      I love this, so moving!

  101. Lili says...

    From Marilyn Robinson’s Housekeeping (100% worth reading):

    “Imagine a Carthage sown with salt, and all the sowers gone, and the seeds lain however long in the earth, till there rose finally in vegetable profusion leaves and trees of rime and brine. What flowering would there be in such a garden? Light would force each salt calyx to open in prisms, and to fruit heavily with bright globes of water–-peaches and grapes are little more than that, and where the world was salt there would be greater need of slaking. For need can blossom into all the compensations it requires. To crave and to have are as like as a thing and its shadow. For when does a berry break upon the tongue as sweetly as when one longs to taste it, and when is the taste refracted into so many hues and savors of ripeness and earth, and when do our senses know any thing so utterly as when we lack it? And here again is a foreshadowing–-the world will be made whole. For to wish for a hand on one’s hair is all but to feel it. So whatever we may lose, very craving gives it back to us again.”

  102. I said to my soul, be still and wait without hope

    For hope would be hope for the wrong thing; wait without love

    For love would be love of the wrong thing; there is yet faith

    But the faith and the love are all in the waiting.

    Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought:

    So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing.

    – T. S. Eliot in Four Quartets

    • madeline says...

      my favorite as well. so good.

  103. Kelly M says...


    from the back of your big brown eyes
    i knew you’d be gone as soon as you could
    and i hoped you would
    we could see that you weren’t yourself
    and the lines on your face did tell
    it’s just as well
    you’d never be yourself again

    saw you last night
    dance by the light of the moon
    stars in your eyes
    free from the life that you knew

    you’re the magic that holds the sky up from the ground
    you’re the breath that blows these cool winds ’round
    trading places with an angel now
    saw you last night
    dance by the light of the moon
    stars in your eyes
    free from the life that you knew
    saw you last night
    stars in your eyes
    smiled in my room

    by Ben Folds

  104. Jamie says...

    “She knows who she is. She just forgot for a little while.”
    ― Donald Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life

  105. Anina says...

    [i carry your heart]

    i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
    my heart)i am never without it (anywhere
    i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
    by only me is your doing,my darling)
    i fear no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet) i want
    no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
    and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
    and whatever a sun will always sing is you
    here is the deepest secret nobody knows
    (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
    and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
    higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
    and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

    i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

    • Abby says...

      Cameron Diaz read this to her sister (Toni Collete) in the movie In Her Shoes during the wedding scene at the end. Leaves me in tears every time. Beautiful.

  106. Kate says...

    “The sense of it may come with watching a flock of cedar waxwings eating wild grapes in the top of the woods on a November afternoon. Everything they do is leisurely. They pick the grapes with a curious deliberation, comb their feathers, converse in high windy whistles. Now and then one will fly out and back in a sort of dancing flight full of whimsical flutters and turns. They are like farmers loafing in their own fields on Sunday. Though they have no Sundays, their days are full of sabbaths.” -Wendell Berry

  107. Laura says...

    I’ll always be drawn to these loving lines in John Donne’s “The Good Morrow”:

    And now good-morrow to our waking souls,
    Which watch not one another out of fear;
    For love, all love of other sights controls,
    And makes one little room an everywhere.

  108. Ksenia says...

    Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out

    Every morning the maple leaves.
    Every morning another chapter where the hero shifts
    from one foot to the other. Every morning the same big
    and little words all spelling out desire, all spelling out
    You will be alone always and then you will die.
    So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog
    of non-definitive acts,
    something other than the desperation.
    Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party.
    Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your party
    and seduced you
    and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.
    You want a better story. Who wouldn’t?
    A forest, then. Beautiful trees. And a lady singing.
    Love on the water, love underwater, love, love and so on.
    What a sweet lady. Sing lady, sing! Of course, she wakes the dragon.
    Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly
    flames everywhere.
    I can tell already you think I’m the dragon,
    that would be so like me, but I’m not. I’m not the dragon.
    I’m not the princess either.
    Who am I? I’m just a writer. I write things down.
    I walk through your dreams and invent the future. Sure,
    I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallow
    glass, but that comes later.
    And the part where I push you
    flush against the wall and every part of your body rubs against the bricks,
    shut up
    I’m getting to it.
    For a while I thought I was the dragon.
    I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was
    the princess,
    cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle,
    young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with
    but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess,
    while I’m out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire,
    and getting stabbed to death.
    Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal.
    You still get to be the hero.
    You get magic gloves! A fish that talks! You get eyes like flashlights!
    What more do you want?
    I make you pancakes, I take you hunting, I talk to you as if you’re
    really there.
    Are you there, sweetheart? Do you know me? Is this microphone live?
    Let me do it right for once,
    for the record, let me make a thing of cream and stars that becomes,
    you know the story, simply heaven.
    Inside your head you hear a phone ringing
    and when you open your eyes
    only a clearing with deer in it. Hello deer.
    Inside your head the sound of glass,
    a car crash sound as the trucks roll over and explode in slow motion.
    Hello darling, sorry about that.
    Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we
    lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell
    and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.
    Especially that, but I should have known.
    You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together
    to make a creature that will do what I say
    or love me back.
    I’m not really sure why I do it, but in this version you are not
    feeding yourself to a bad man
    against a black sky prickled with small lights.
    I take it back.
    The wooden halls like caskets. These terms from the lower depths.
    I take them back.
    Here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed.
    Crossed out.
    Clumsy hands in a dark room. Crossed out. There is something
    underneath the floorboards.
    Crossed out. And here is the tabernacle
    Here is the part where everyone was happy all the time and we were all
    even though we didn’t deserve it.
    Inside your head you hear
    a phone ringing, and when you open your eyes you’re washing up
    in a stranger’s bathroom,
    standing by the window in a yellow towel, only twenty minutes away
    from the dirtiest thing you know.
    All the rooms of the castle except this one, says someone, and suddenly
    suddenly only darkness.
    In the living room, in the broken yard,
    in the back of the car as the lights go by. In the airport
    bathroom’s gurgle and flush, bathed in a pharmacy of
    unnatural light,
    my hands looking weird, my face weird, my feet too far away.
    And then the airplane, the window seat over the wing with a view
    of the wing and a little foil bag of peanuts.
    I arrived in the city and you met me at the station,
    smiling in a way
    that made me frightened. Down the alley, around the arcade,
    up the stairs of the building
    to the little room with the broken faucets, your drawings, all your things,
    I looked out the window and said
    This doesn’t look that much different from home,
    because it didn’t,
    but then I noticed the black sky and all those lights.
    We walked through the house to the elevated train.
    All these buildings, all that glass and the shiny beautiful
    mechanical wind.
    We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too,
    smiling and crying in a way that made me
    even more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but I
    just couldn’t say it out loud.
    Actually, you said Love, for you,
    is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s
    terrifying. No one
    will ever want to sleep with you.
    Okay, if you’re so great, you do it—
    here’s the pencil, make it work . . .
    If the window is on your right, you are in your own bed. If the window
    is over your heart, and it is painted shut, then we are breathing
    river water.
    Build me a city and call it Jerusalem. Build me another and call it
    We have come back from Jerusalem where we found not
    what we sought, so do it over, give me another version,
    a different room, another hallway, the kitchen painted over
    and over,
    another bowl of soup.
    The entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell.
    Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.
    Forget the dragon,
    leave the gun on the table, this has nothing to do with happiness.
    Let’s jump ahead to the moment of epiphany,
    in gold light, as the camera pans to where
    the action is,
    lakeside and backlit, and it all falls into frame, close enough to see
    the blue rings of my eyes as I say
    something ugly.
    I never liked that ending either. More love streaming out the wrong way,
    and I don’t want to be the kind that says the wrong way.
    But it doesn’t work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats.
    There were some nice parts, sure,
    all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas
    and the grains of sugar
    on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I’m sorry
    it’s such a lousy story.
    Dear Forgiveness, you know that recently
    we have had our difficulties and there are many things
    I want to ask you.
    I tried that one time, high school, second lunch, and then again,
    years later, in the chlorinated pool.
    I am still talking to you about help. I still do not have
    these luxuries.
    I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together.
    We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . .
    When I say this, it should mean laughter,
    not poison.
    I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.
    Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.
    Quit milling around the yard and come inside.

  109. sarah d. says...

    My two additions are:

    “The reason death sticks so closely to life isn’t biological necessity; it’s envy. Life is so beautiful that death has fallen in love with it, a jealous possessive love that grabs at what it can.”
    Yann Martel – Life of Pi

    ” Dusk, I realized then, is just an illusion, because the sun is either above the horizon or below it. And that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are; there cannot be one without the other, yet they cannot exist at the same time. How would it feel, I remember wondering, to be always together, yet forever apart?”
    Nicholas Sparks – The Notebook

  110. For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

  111. Courtenay says...

    “It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.” – Gabriel Garcia Marquez

    Opening line of ‘Love in the Time of Cholera.’ I don’t know why, but it always stood out to me as enormously stunning writing.

    • Zoe says...

      Yes!!!!! I read this when I was 16 and I can still quote it today (a gagillion years later). And I 100% agree – it has always struck me as enormously stunning writing (to use your perfect words)

  112. Neha Choudary says...

    We included this Tagore poem on our wedding program because it evokes the endless, universal feeling of being in love. I always come back to it in my mind, partially because of the words he uses, but also for its rhythm. Truly magical.

    Unending Love by Rabindranath Tagore

    I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times…
    In life after life, in age after age, forever.
    My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
    That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
    In life after life, in age after age, forever.

    Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, its age-old pain,
    Its ancient tale of being apart or together.
    As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
    Clad in the light of a pole-star piercing the darkness of time:
    You become an image of what is remembered forever.

    You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
    At the heart of time, love of one for another.
    We have played along side millions of lovers, shared in the same
    Shy sweetness of meeting, the same distressful tears of farewell-
    Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

    Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
    The love of all man’s days both past and forever:
    Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
    The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours –
    And the songs of every poet past and forever.

  113. kellykaboo says...

    I don’t have the book with me to quote from, so I’ll just say: basically everything Cheryl Strayed wrote in Tiny, Beautiful Things. That book broke me into a million pieces in such a good way.

    • sarah d. says...

      Totally agree !!

  114. Maddy says...

    A beautiful poem that I have found to be so true….

    “Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” ― poem by Mary Jean Irion

  115. Laurie Colwin is mostly remembered for her cooking essays (which are delightful) but her fiction is wonderful, and her short stories are jewels. This is from one of my favorites, The Lone Pilgrim:

    Those days were spent in quest– the quest to settle your own life, and now the search has ended. Your imagined happiness is yours. Therefore, you lose your old bearings. On the one side is your happiness and on the other is your past– the self you were used to, going through life alone, heir to your own experience. Once you commit yourself, everything changes and the rest of your life seems to you like a dark forest on the property you have recently acquired. It is yours, but still you are afraid to enter it, wondering what you might find: a little chapel, a stand of birches, wolves, snakes, the worst you can imagine, or the best. You take one timid step forward, but then you realize you are not alone. You take someone’s hand….and strain through the darkness to see ahead.

  116. Both of these quotes are from Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar.

    “Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you’ll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.”

    “You don’t need a reason to leave. Wanting to leave is enough. Leaving doesn’t mean you’re incapable of real love or that you’ll never love anyone else again. It doesn’t mean you’re morally bankrupt or psychologically demented or a nymphomaniac. It means you wish to change the terms of one particular relationship. That’s all. Be brave enough to break your own heart.”

  117. Kiera says...

    For me it is Martin Amis in The Rachel Papers:

    And, good Lord, in this day and age a kid has to have something to get worked up about, skimpy though his material may be. So the emotion that walks like a burglar through our house trying all the doors has found mine the only one unlocked, indeed wide open: for there are no valuables inside.

  118. “But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—‘Thou mayest’— that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.” -John Steinbeck in East of Eden

    • Michelle says...

      Yes! I love this one too!

  119. Amanda says...

    Jeanette Winterson’s book, “Written on the Body” is filled with nothing but the most beautiful sentences and paragraphs. She conveys love and passion in a way I’ve never read before or since. While this may not be the most beautiful thing in the entire book (there’s just too much to choose from!), it has always stuck with me: “Dear friend, let me lie beside you watching the clouds until the earth covers us and we are gone.”

  120. cait says...

    I was trying to describe you to someone a few days ago. You don’t look like any girl I’ve ever seen before.

    I couldn’t say “Well she looks just like Jane Fonda, except that she’s got red hair, and her mouth is different and of course, she’s not a movie star…”

    I couldn’t say that because you don’t look like Jane Fonda at all.

    I finally ended up describing you as a movie I saw when I was a child in Tacoma Washington. I guess I saw it in 1941 or 42, somewhere in there. I think I was seven, or eight, or six.

    It was a movie about rural electrification, a perfect 1930’s New Deal morality kind of movie to show kids. The movie was about farmers living in the country without electricity. They had to use lanterns to see by at night, for sewing and reading, and they didn’t have any appliances like toasters or washing machines, and they couldn’t listen to the radio. They built a dam with big electric generators and they put poles across the countryside and strung wire over fields and pastures.

    There was an incredible heroic dimension that came from the simple putting up of poles for the wires to travel along. They looked ancient and modern at the same time.

    Then the movie showed electricity like a young Greek god, coming to the farmer to take away forever the dark ways of his life. Suddenly, religiously, with the throwing of a switch, the farmer had electric lights to see by when he milked his cows in the early black winter mornings. The farmer’s family got to listen to the radio and have a toaster and lots of bright lights to sew dresses and read the newspaper by.

    It was really a fantastic movie and excited me like listening to the Star Spangled Banner, or seeing photographs of President Roosevelt, or hearing him on the radio “… the President of the United States… “

    I wanted electricity to go everywhere in the world. I wanted all the farmers in the world to be able to listen to President Roosevelt on the radio….

    And that’s how you look to me.

    -Richard Brautigan

  121. Betsie says...

    “Thomas Merton wrote, ‘There is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues.’ There is always an enormous temptation in all of life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for itsy-bitsy years on end… I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous and bitter, more extravagant and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain, or Lazarus.” – Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

  122. Annie Wolfe says...

    “I feel sometimes as if I were a child who opens its eyes on the world once and sees amazing things it will never know any names for and then has to close its eyes again. I know this is all mere apparition compared to what awaits us, but it is only lovelier for that. There is a human beauty in it. And I can’t believe that, when we have all been changed and put on incorruptibility, we will forget our fantastic condition of mortality and impermanence, the great bright dream of procreating and perishing that meant the whole world to us. In eternity this world will be Troy, I believe, and all that has passed here will be the epic of the universe, the ballad they sing in the streets. Because I don’t imagine any reality putting this one in the shade entirely, and I think piety forbids me to try.”
    Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

  123. Laura lukjanovs says...

    Though dreams can be deceiving like faces are to hearts. They serve for sweet relieving. When fantasy and reality,lie, to far, apart.

    -Fiona Apple

  124. Jill says...

    Oh, one more!

    “There are two important days in a woman’s life: the day she is born and the day she finds out why.”
    ― Terry Tempest Williams, When Women Were Birds: Fifty-four Variations on Voice

  125. Jill says...

    “The oak tree in the garden drops more than two thousand acorns a year. Each acorn is both a culmination and a seed; each carries its own ancestral imprint and the full potential to evolve. In California, the principal propagator of oaks is the scrub jay. A jay picks up thousands of acorns and stores them underground in the fall, and when it’s time to eat, remembers where nearly all of them are placed. Nearly all. A few stay undisturbed underground, and those are the ones that sprout. The lineage of the coastal live oak depends on what a bird forgets, and the survival of the Western scrub jay depends on what a live oak leaves behind. It sounds like a willy-nilly proposition, only it isn’t.

    One acorn in ten thousand becomes a tree. On the one hand, what a waste. On the other, it works. In the crapshoot of life, you—I mean you—turned up. You rose from the ground of your ancestors, their dust in your bones. Without accomplishing another thing, you are the complete fulfillment of all those who came before you. How can you doubt yourself?” – Karen Maezen Miller, Paradise in Plain Sight

  126. Lisa says...

    I am surprised that there is no (that I can see) quotes from Chuck Palahniuk in the comments! I have a pinterest folder for quotes I love, and its 1000+..

    The one that speaks to me most right now: “I wanted to give up the idea that I had any control. Shake things up. To be saved by chaos. To see if I could cope, I wanted to force myself to grow again. To explode my comfort zone.”

    Another one I love:
    “It’s so hard to forget pain, but its even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness, we learn so little from peace.”

  127. Chantal C says...

    “So much I know that things just don’t grow if you don’t bless them with your patience.”

    -Emmylou by First Aid Kit

    • Sarah says...

      Love this and love First Aid Kit

  128. Angy says...

    “What I Know for Sure,” by Bob Hicok
    Some people, told of witness trees,
    pause in chopping a carrot
    or loosening a lug nut and ask,
    witness to what? So while salad
    is made, or getting from A to B
    is repaired, these people
    listen to the story
    of the Burnside Bridge sycamore,
    alive at Antietam, bloodiest day
    of the war, or the Appomattox Court House
    honey locust, just coming to leaf
    as Lee surrendered, and say, at the end,
    Cool. Then the chopping
    continues with its two sounds,
    the slight snap to the separation
    of carrot from carrot, the harder crack
    of knife against cutting board,
    or the sigh, also slight, of a lug nut
    as it’s tightened against a wheel. In time,
    these people put their hands
    under water and say, not so much to you
    but to the window in front of the sink,
    Think of all the things
    trees have seen. Then it’s time
    for dinner, or to leave, and a month passes,
    or a year, before two fawns
    cross in front of the car, or the man
    you’ve just given a dollar to
    lifts his shirt to the start
    of the 23rd psalm tattooed
    to his chest, “The Lord is my shepherd,
    I shall not want,” when some people
    say, I feel like one of those trees,
    you know? And you do know.
    You make a good salad, change
    a wicked tire, you’re one of those people,
    watching, listening, a witness
    to whatever this is,
    for as long as it is
    amazing, isn’t it, that I could call you
    right now and say, They still
    can’t talk to dolphins
    but are closer, as I still
    can’t say everything I want to
    but am closer, for trying, to God,
    if you must, to spirit, if you will,
    to what’s never easy for people
    like us: life, breath, the sheer volume
    of wonder.

    and ….

    “The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds
    Cut out of the son
    When you read my mind”
    The Killers

  129. Tess Varner says...

    “Above me, the moon was a comma in the sky, a conjunction between days.” – Vendela Vida

  130. In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.

    The Great Gatsby