بریده‌های کتاب 🎀 𝑵𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒎 🎀

ستونی که بر آن زندگی کودکی‌ام آرام و قرار داشت،ستونی که هر فرد پیش از آنکه به خودش بدل شود، می‌بایست ویرانش کرد.

all I had to do was find the source of happiness in me and not rely on others to supply it the next time

people who read are hiders. they hide who they are, people who hide don't always like who they are

هر چه بیشتر دنیا را می‌بینم بیشتر متقاعد می‌شوم که بعید است با مردی آشنا شوم که بتوانم واقعا عاشقش باشم. من زیاده طلب‌ام!

But it was true that for the first time, he was able to comprehend that the people he had grown to trust might someday betray him anyway, and that as disappointing as it might be, it was inevitable as well, and that life would keep propelling him steadily forward, because for everyone who might fail him in some way, there was at least one person who never would

He is half of my soul, as the poets say.

He stirs and the air stirs with him, bearing the musk-sweet smell of his body. I think: This is what I will miss. I think: I will kill myself rather than miss it. I think: How long do we have?

The never-ending ache of love and sorrow. Perhaps in some other life I could have refused, could have torn my hair and screamed, and made him face his choice alone. But not in this one. He would sail to Troy and I would follow, even into death.

The rosy gleam of his lip, the fevered green of his eyes. There was not a line anywhere on his face, nothing creased or graying; all crisp. He was spring, golden and bright. Envious Death would drink his blood, and grow young again.

I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.

“There is no law that gods must be fair, Achilles,” Chiron said. “And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone.

A god. I could not imagine him so. Gods were cold and distant, far off as the moon, nothing like his bright eyes, the warm mischief of his smiles.

Those seconds, half seconds, that the line of our gaze connected, were the only moment in my day that I felt anything at all. The sudden swoop of my stomach, the coursing anger. I was like a fish eyeing the hook.

مقصد نهایی؟ به نظر من، آدما ماشین‌های خودران نیستن که به سمت خط پایان، مسابقه بدن. ما باید خودمون صاحب زندگیمون باشیم، خودمون موتور رو روشن کنیم و گاهی ترمز بگیریم.

زمانی که من بیشتر از همه دوست دارم، وقتی است که همه در خواب هستند استاد. وقتی در خواب هستی، بابت گذشته پشیمانی نمیکنی و به خاطر آینده مضطرب نیستی. ولی آدم‌ها خواب را جزء خاطرات خوش و بخشی از آینده بزرگ خود لحاظ نمی‌کنند.

تک تک انسان های این کره خاکی به نوبت محکوم به زجر کشیدن بودند. گاهی اوقات تنها کاری که از دستتان برمی‌آمد این بود که یکدیگر را محکم بگیرید، تا زمانی که تاریکی دوباره به بیرون تفتان کند.

شاید وقتی بچه بودی کنترل زیادی روی زندگی‌ات نداشتی؛برای همین به منظور اجتناب از دلسردی، یاد گرفتی هرگز از خودت نپرسی واقعا چه می‌خواهی و این مدتی طولانی جواب داد.