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The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet | William Shakespeare
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I gotta admit that This Classic is Eternal. That's for sure.
Here are some beautiful lines from it:

¶ Thus with a kiss I die ¶.

¶ Love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs. ¶

¶ Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night;

Give me my Romeo; and, when I shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,

And he will make the face of heaven so fine

That all the world will be in love with night... ¶

(More in comments)

Aashkaar ¶ My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

The more I have, for both are infinite. ¶
Aashkaar ¶ Don't waste your love on somebody, who doesn't value it ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change ¶ 6mo
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Aashkaar ¶ Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.


Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.


Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
Aashkaar (Cont'd-). Juliet:

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.


O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.


Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.


Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.


Then have my lips the sin that they have took.


Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again.


You kiss by the book. ¶

Aashkaar ¶ See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.

O, that I were a glove upon that hand

That I might touch that cheek! ¶
Aashkaar ¶ I defy you, stars ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ O, here

Will I set up my everlasting rest,

And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars

From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!

Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you

The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss

A dateless bargain to engrossing death! ¶
Aashkaar ¶ Why then, O brawling love! O loving hate!

O any thing, of nothing first create!

O heavy lightness, serious vanity,

Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,

Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,

Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!

This love feel I, that feel no love in this. ¶
Aashkaar ¶ Under love's heavy burden do I sink ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings

and soar with them above a common bound. ¶
Aashkaar ¶ Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;

Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;

Being vexed, a sea nourished with loving tears.

What is it else? A madness most discreet,

A choking gall, and a preserving sweet. ¶
Aashkaar *Here‘s what love is: a smoke made out of lovers' sighs. When the smoke clears, love is a fire burning in your lover‘s eyes. If you frustrate love, you get an ocean made out of lovers' tears. What else is love? It‘s a wise form of madness. It‘s a sweet lozenge that you choke on.* 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ A glooming peace this morning with it brings;

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;

Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:

For never was a story of more woe

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. ¶
Aashkaar ¶ But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,

Who is already sick and pale with grief,

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.

Be not her maid, since she is envious;

Her vestal livery is but sick and green

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

It is my lady, O, it is my love!

Oh, that she knew she were! ¶
Aashkaar ¶ turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image. His face will make the heavens so beautiful that the world will fall in love with the night and forget about the garish sun. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Eyes, look your last!

Arms, take your last embrace!

And, lips, oh you the doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss a dateless bargain to engrossing death! ¶
Aashkaar ¶ O! she doth teach the torches to burn bright

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop's ear;

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear. ¶
Aashkaar ¶ Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ He jests at scars that never felt a wound. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar *It‘s easy for someone to joke about scars if they‘ve never been cut.* 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I dreamt my lady came and found me dead

. . . . . . . . . . . .

And breathed such life with kisses in my lips

That I revived and was an emperor ¶
Aashkaar ¶ It were a grief so brief to part with thee.

Farewell. ¶
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I'm gonna share some quotes from this book.
So here they are:

¶ ...All is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night… ¶

(More in comments)

Aashkaar Women have lust, too. Why should they be relegated to the position of custodian of emotions, watcher of infants, feeder of soul, body and pride of man? Being a woman is my awful tragedy. 6mo
Aashkaar •I don‘t see how people stand being old. Your insides all dry up. When you‘re young you‘re so self-reliant. You don‘t even need much religion. 6mo
Aashkaar •Girls, girls everywhere, reading books. Intent faces flesh, pink, white, yellow. And I sit here without identity: faceless.• 6mo
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Aashkaar ¶ I have to exercise my memory in little feats just so I can stay in this damn wonderful place which I love and hate with all my heart. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. And I am horribly limited. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Perhaps that‘s why I want to be everyone – so no one can blame me for being I. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ He has led you up behind the fraternity house to a clearing in the pines overlooking the city. The perfect place to discuss god and life. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ And you hate him because he has deprived you of that: walks and aloneness. And you hate him because he is a boy. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ She screams and rapidly puts lipstick on her own lips. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ At the traditional age of sixteen, you found out that a kiss was not as distasteful as once imagined. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ You felt no reality, no knife of sorrow cut your intestines to bits. Only a weariness, a longing for a shoulder to sleep on, a pair of arms to curl up in – and a lack of that now. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ That starts you feeling a little sorry. You won‘t ever see her again. She won‘t even remember you. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I wanted to scream out in helpless fury at the hopeless inevitable going on of seconds, days and years. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Will I never rest in sunlight again – slow, languid & golden with peace? ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Aloneness and selfness are too important to betray for company. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ If I did not have this time to be myself, to write here, to be alone, I would somehow, inexplicably, lose a part of my integrity. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ You‘d much rather read anything but what you have to, but you do have to, and you will, although you‘ve already wasted two hours writing stream-of-consciousness stuff in here when your stream isn‘t even much to brag about, after all. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Then bed, and again the luxury of the dark. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ What is more tedious than boy-girl episodes? Nothing; yet there is no tedium that will be recorded so eternally. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I don‘t believe in God as a kind father in the sky. I don‘t believe that the meek will inherit the earth: The meek get ignored and trampled. They decompose in the bloody soil of war, of business, of art, and they rot into the warm ground under the spring rains. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ It seems to me more than ever that I am a victim of introspection. If I have not the power to put myself in the place of other people, but must be continually burrowing inward. I shall never be the magnanimous creative person I wish to be. Yet I am hypnotized by the workings of the individual, alone, and am continually using myself as a specimen. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Why am I obsessed with the idea I can justify myself by getting manuscripts published? Is it an escape – an excuse for any social failure – so I can say “No, I don‘t go out for many extra-curricular activities, but I spent a lot of time writing.” Or is it an excuse for wanting to be alone and mediate alone, not having to brave a group of women? (Women in numbers have always disturbed me) 6mo
Aashkaar (Cont'd->). Do I like to write? Why? About what? Will I give up and say “living and feeding a man‘s insatiable guts and begetting children occupies my whole life, don‘t have time to write?” Or will I stick to my damn stuff and practice? Read and think and practice? I am worried about thinking. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ So I am led to one or two choices. Can I write? Will I write if I practice enough? How much should I sacrifice to writing anyway, before I find out if I‘m any good?” ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I am afraid that the physical sensuousness of marriage will lull and soothe to inactive lethargy my desire to work outside the realm of my mate – might make me “lose myself in him,” as I said before, and thereby lose the need to write as I would lose the need to escape. Very simple.” ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Victimized by sex is the human race. Animals, the fortunate lower beasts, go into heat. Then they are through with the thing, while we poor lustful humans, caged by mores, chained by circumstance, writhe and agonize with the appalling and demanding fire licking always at our loins. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Can‘t stop thinking I am just beginning. In 10 years I will be 30 and not ancient and maybe good. Hope. Prospects. Work, though, and I love it. Delivering babies. Maybe even both kinds. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶` Face it, kid, you‘ve had a hell of lot of good breaks. No Elizabeth Taylor, maybe. No child Hemingway, but God, you are growing up. In other words, you‘ve come a long way from the ugly introvert you were only five years ago. Pats on the back in order? OK. Tan, tall, blondish, not half bad. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ The end was coition, physically. But I wasn‘t having any of that. I was being pragmatic. I felt like being kissed, petted, made love to. I would take it as far as I wanted to. To hell with him. I am not a tease, nor a whore – he could go home unsatisfied, rape a stranger, I didn‘t care ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ And there is the fallacy of existence: the idea that one would be happy forever and aye with a given situation or series of accomplishments. Why did Virginia Woolf commit suicide? Or Sara Teasdale – or the other brilliant women – neurotic? Was their writing sublimation (oh horrible world) of deep, basic desires? ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Someday, god knows when, I will stop this absurd, self-pitying, idle, futile despair. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ God, I want to get to know him. If I could build an idea and creative life with him, or someone like him, I would feel I lived a testimony of constructive faith in a hell of a world. And our reality would be our heaven. Please, I dream of talking to him again, under apple trees at night in the hills of orchards; talking, quoting poetry, and making a good life. Please, I want so badly for the good things to happen. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I think I am a good deal more experienced in varieties of kisses than he is. I better be careful I don‘t shock him or make him think he needs more experience, because I like him this way, and perhaps subtly I can let him know how other ways I like to be kissed. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Oh God, there is no faith or permanence or solace in love unless – unless – the mind adores, the body adores – and yet the fear is always in my mind: tomorrow it will all be different – tomorrow I will hate the way he chuckles at a joke, or combs his hair with a dirty pocket comb, (Cont'd->) 6mo
Aashkaar tomorrow he will see that my nose is fat and my skin is sallow, and the wine, and the colored lights, and the bitten apple of love will translate itself into discarded feces. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Let‘s face it, I am in danger of wanting my personal absolute to be a demigod of a man, and as there aren‘t many around, I often unconsciously manufacture my own. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I want to write because I have the urge to excel in one medium of translation and expression of life. I can‘t be satisfied with the colossal job of merely living ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Would it be too childish of me to say : I want? But I do want, theater, light, color, paintings, wine and wonder. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ And meanwhile you are probably sleeping exhausted in the arms of some brilliant whore, or maybe even the Swiss girl who wants to marry you. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ With love and faith, not turning sour and cold and bitter, to help others. That is salvation. To give of love inside. To keep love of live, no matter what, and give to others. Generously ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Then the worst happened, that big, dark, hunky boy, the only one there huge enough for me, who had been hunching around over women, and whose name I had asked the minute I had come into the room, but no one told me came over and was looking hard in my eyes and it was Ted Hughes. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ But I am not. I am inclined to babies and bed and brilliant friends and a magnificent stimulating home where geniuses drink gin in the kitchen after a delectable dinner and read their own novels and tell about why the stock market is the way it will be and discuss scientific mysticism. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ If I were a man, I could write a novel about this; being a woman, why must I only cry and freeze, cry and freeze? ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Golden wafers (such an elegant name for Ritz crackers) ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ The horror, day by day more sure, of being pregnant. Remembering my growing casualness about contraception, as if it couldn‘t happen to me. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Story: woman with poet husband who writes about love, passion – she, after glow of vanity and joy, finds out he isn‘t writing about her (as her friends think) but about Dream Woman Muse. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Reading a glut of SatEvePost stories till my eyes ached these past days I realized the gap in my writing and theirs. My world is flat thin pasteboard, theirs full of babies, old dowagers, queer jobs and job lingo instead of set pieces ending in ‘I love you.' ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Remember Florence across the street, who had orange Japanese lanterns in her garden that used to crumble in your fingers with a dry crinkling sound? Remember how you used to lock the bathroom door…and squat in fascinated discover over the hand mirror on the floor and defecate? God, start remembering all the things; all the little things! ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Sometimes I shiver in a preview of the pain and the terror of childbirth, but it will come and I live through it. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Who knows who Ted‘s next book will be dedicated to? His navel. His penis.¶ (when she was sure he's cheating on her with one of his smith students) 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I got the final insight: not only am I just as nasty as everybody else, but so is Ted. A liar and a vain smiler. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ He was walking with a board, intense smile, eyes into the uplifted doe-eyes of a strange girl with brownish hair, a large lipsticked grin, and bare thick legs in khaki Bermuda shorts. I saw this in several sharp flashes, like blows. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I enjoy it when Ted is off for a bit. I can build up my own inner life, my own thoughts, without his continuous “What are you thinking? What are you going to do now?” which makes me promptly and recalcitrantly stop thinking and doing. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Security is inside me and in Ted‘s warmth. The smell and feel of him is worth a private fortune a year and how lucky I am – there are not rules for this kind of wifeliness – I must make them up as I go along and will do so. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Hope, careers – writing is too much for me: I don‘t want a job until I am happy with writing – yet feel desperate to get a job – to fill myself up with some external reality where people accept phone bills, meat-getting, babies, marriage, as part of the purpose to the universe. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I love his good smell and his body that fits with mine as if they were made in the same body-shop to do just that. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ A question: do I love laziness more than I love the feeling of accomplishing that work (writing, learning German, French, studying)? It seems that way. I take the path of least resistance and curl up with a book. Everyone else seems to be doing valuable work: social work, cancer research, teaching, degree getting, mothering. What can I do? ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ She had good big breasts though, and they bulged up under the starched sexless white uniforms so you could see how some guy might want to get real romantic. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ The clock struck 12. The baby squirmed and cried, warm in the crook of my arm. Doctor Webb put his fingers digging into my stomach and told me to cough. The afterbirth flew out into a Pyrex bowl, which crimsoned with blood. It was whole. We had a son. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Kiss me, and you will see how important I am. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Yes, I was infatuated with you: I am still. No one has ever heightened such a keen capacity of physical sensation in me. I cut you out because I couldn't stand being a passing fancy. Before I give my body, I must give my thoughts, my mind, my dreams. And you weren't having any of those. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I desire the things that will destroy me in the end. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I like people too much or not at all. I've got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I am still so naïve; I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don‘t ask me who I am. A passionate, fragmentary girl, maybe? ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Perhaps some day I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love's not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. (Cont'd-> 6mo
Aashkaar But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I'll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time... ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ “I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself up in a numb core of nonfeeling, or stop questioning and criticizing life and take the easy way out. To learn and think: to think and live; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.” ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ I do not love; I do not love anybody except myself. That is a rather shocking thing to admit. I have none of the selfless love of my mother. I have none of the plodding, practical love. . . . . I am, to be blunt and concise, in love only with myself, my puny being with its small inadequate breasts and meager, thin talents. I am capable of affection for those who reflect my own world. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar ¶ Let's face it: I'm scared, scared and frozen. First, I guess I'm afraid for myself... the old primitive urge for survival. It's getting so I live every moment with terrible intensity. It all flowed over me with a screaming ache of pain... remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted. (Cont'd--> 6mo
Aashkaar Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted. When you feel that this may be good-bye, the last time, it hits you harder. ¶ 6mo
Aashkaar Okay, i guess that's enough. I need to stop here. 6mo
Aashkaar There are many quotes. Hell, I can possibly write a new book as collection or selection of lines from her journals. 6mo
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#OneWordReview: Forelsket

Forelsket (Norwegian): The indescribable euphoria experienced as you begin to fall in love.

I have read sylvia's journals long ago. But, it always feels like i haven't read them at all. Every time i go thru them, i get THAT feeling. Hell, i love this girl. Truly. I know i can't have her. I can't meet her. She's dead and gone and just a name that survived til date. But, even then, this feeling that i've feels wonderful.

Aashkaar whenever i read her journals i fall in love with this girl. I don't wanna confess this but i can't put it otherwise. There's great humour in her journals and things written in a way way she truly feels. Her perspective is amazing. The way she looks at the world and everything about her. Reading her journals is like looking at the world she was in thru her mind. Her honesty is awesome. It just wins you over. 6mo
Aashkaar You feel her pain and her happiness and everything. You wish for things to happen to her that are beautiful and amazing but then, you know, people don't always get what they deserve. And life sometimes as always becomes another form of cruelty itself. 6mo
Aashkaar This one Norwegian word i just mentioned is what i feel like when i go thru her journals. I love her journals more than her poems or any other works. 6mo
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Aashkaar Yet that word isn't enough. Here's the thing. Language is limited and there ain't any words for many indescribable things that you truly feel. 6mo
Aashkaar I could have described my experience in many words such as: 6mo
Aashkaar Wabi-Sabi (Japanese): Finding beauty in imperfections. 6mo
Aashkaar Sylvia isn't a perfect human being. 6mo
Aashkaar And yet that's what makes her so beautiful 6mo
Aashkaar Wait.. Did i just said "She is" 6mo
Aashkaar I mean, She was. 6mo
Aashkaar Then there's this another word 6mo
Aashkaar Saudade (Portuguese): The feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost. 6mo
Aashkaar Hell, English doesn't have many words for feelings that you can't really explain to are so numinous. 6mo
Aashkaar Then there's another word 6mo
Aashkaar Kilig (Tagalog): The feeling of butterflies in your stomach, usually when something romantic takes place 6mo
Aashkaar Especially when you know sylvia's life story beyond her journals, say her suicide and all the terrible things, then reading her journals is like a ...... 6mo
Aashkaar Commuovere (Italian): Often taken to mean “heartwarming,” but directly refers to a story that moved you to tears. 6mo
Aashkaar I feel like using a time machine to go to the world sylvia was in. Not that it was some Disney world or fairyland. No. 6mo
Aashkaar I feel like sharing some lines from her jourmals. 6mo
Aashkaar So i'm gonna do it. Not all lines of course. That might ruin the experience of one can have when going thru her journals after going thru this post. 6mo
51 likes20 comments
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I sometimes think that people‘s hearts are like deep wells. Nobody knows what‘s at the bottom. All you can do is imagine by what comes floating to the surface every once in a while.

Kafka on the Shore | Haruki Murakami
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If you remember me, then I don‘t care if everyone else forgets.

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I‘m sure people just kiss each other. I‘m sure that sometimes you‘re talking and somehow two people move closer and closer to each other and then, they just kiss. I‘m sure it happens all the time. But I‘m also sure that a kiss is never just a kiss.

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I am nervous. I‘m afraid. But I will stand

here in the white hot heat of you.

I will play Russian roulette with your playlists.

I will tell jokes I‘m not sure you‘ll find funny.

I will hold on until there is no more reason to. And in the end, I will break the stars and resurrect the sun.

Norwegian Wood | Haruki Murakami
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#OneWordReview: Murakamish!

I thought for a long time, in what way one is to describe any murakami novel in perfect words and then i came up with this. I have my own reasons to use or make up this word. As this was not my first murakami novel, i'm pretty much familiar with what one should expect when it comes to murakami novels. You gotta read his works to know what i'm really talking about. It's not The best of murakami but it's a Good read.

Aashkaar I should be reading "Death in the air" right now. I know. But i haven't touched that book since many days. It's not that there's anything wrong with the book. No. It's interesting to read and i know i'll go thru it no matter what. But, here's the thing, THE MOOD. I'm not in mood to read non-fiction. Nah. However great and interesting it is, i don't give a damn. I guess it'd take me few more days to get back in mood and pick this non fiction book. 7mo
Aashkaar I was going thru some of my favorite classics. Again & Again... That's how i know why those books passed the test of time and have retained themselves even now. Ever green books. That's why they are classics 7mo
Aashkaar In particular, i was "wandering" thru the beautifully written book series "In search of lost time" and "Anne of green gables". Apart from that, i lost myself in world of poetry. 7mo
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Aashkaar So yeah.. It's completely unrelated to the post i know. But i wanted to say these things anyway. 7mo
Aashkaar About this book called "Norwegian wood" 7mo
Aashkaar I'd say it's a treat for those who love the Beatles and classical music etc. As there are many references to that stuff throughout the novel. It's not something unusual though. Murakami have done it in almost all the novels i have read. 7mo
Aashkaar Apart from that, the prose is beautiful. Not "Conrad"-y. But in a Murakamish way. Characters are well developed. At least that's what i found the most interesting part of this book. The book doesn't have much plot to it but the Ending, uh... That's the best thing about this book. At least to me 7mo
Aashkaar I should have read it earlier. But it never attracted me so much compared to other novels by murakami. Novels like Kafka on the shore or The wind up bird chronicle. Those are masterpieces, no doubt in that 7mo
Aashkaar But i'm Glad that i chose to read it. 7mo
Aashkaar To tell you the truth, some of it (most of it) i listened (audiobook) and some of it i read. 7mo
Aashkaar In all, i found it satisfying . now i'm aware that there are lot of readers out there who never liked this one outing by murakami that much. But in my experience, this one is really good. I really liked it . i'd not have liked it that much if murakami would have kept the ending different . 7mo
booklahoma @Aashkaar Well said! Murakamish is a great descriptor. 7mo
Aashkaar Yeah.. You're right! 7mo
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All Your Perfects | Colleen Hoover
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#OneWordReview : RAVISHING!

I love the writing style and female characters of this author. I have read almost everything she has written. This book is definitely one of her best works.
All right, so, to give you a slight glimpse into this book, I'm putting down some of my favorite lines and passages in comments' section:

Aashkaar I look at him and realize it‘s the first time I‘ve really taken him in. This might be one of the worst moments of his life, but even taking that into consideration, he‘s extremely handsome. Expressive dark brown eyes that match his unruly hair. A strong jaw that‘s been constantly twitching with silent rage since I walked out of the elevator. (more-->) 7mo
Aashkaar (CONT'D) Two full lips that keep being pressed together and thinned out every time he glances at the door. It makes me wonder if his features would appear softer if his girlfriend weren‘t in there with Ethan right now. 7mo
Aashkaar Here's another one: 7mo
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Aashkaar There‘s a sadness about him. Not one related to our current situation. Something deeper . . . like it‘s embedded in him. I‘ve met people who smile with their eyes, but he frowns with his. 7mo
Aashkaar And this one: 7mo
Aashkaar The problem is, love and happiness are not concordant. One can exist without the other. 7mo
Aashkaar And some more back to back: 7mo
Aashkaar He‘s leaning against the doorway, his curiosity pulling his eyebrows together as he stares at me. He fills the room with his presence.

I only fill it with my absence.

Aashkaar After knowing him for as long as I have, there‘s still a mysteriousness that surrounds him. It peeks out of his dark eyes and weighs down all the thoughts he never speaks. The quietness is what drew me to him the first day I met him. It made me feel at peace.

Funny how that same quietness makes me uneasy now.

Aashkaar Sometimes when I open my mouth, it feels like the wind blows all my words straight back down my throat. 7mo
Aashkaar And this passage: 7mo
Aashkaar I miss the days when I needed to tell him everything or I would burst. And I miss the days when he would feel like time cheated us during the hours we had to sleep. Some mornings I would wake up and catch him staring at me. He would smile and whisper, “What did I miss while you were sleeping?” I would roll onto my side and tell him all about my dreams and sometimes he would laugh so hard, he would have tears in his eyes. (More-->) 7mo
Aashkaar (CONT'D) He would analyze the good ones and downplay the bad ones. He always had a way of making me feel like my dreams were better than anyone else‘s. 7mo
Aashkaar And then: 7mo
Aashkaar I‘m bothered by the intensity of my desire for him. I want to turn and fill his mouth with my tongue. I miss the taste of him, the smell of him, the sound of him. I miss when he would be on top of me, so consumed by me that it felt like he might tear through my chest just so he could be face-to-face with my heart while we made love. (more-->) 7mo
Aashkaar (CONT'D) It‘s strange how I can miss a person who is still here. It‘s strange that I can miss making love to a person I still have sex with. 7mo
Aashkaar Another: 7mo
Aashkaar I‘ve perfected the art of avoidance. I‘m so graceful in my evasion of him; sometimes I‘m not sure if he even notices. I pretend to fall asleep before he even makes it to bed at night. I pretend I don‘t hear him when my name drips from his lips in the dark. I pretend to be busy when he walks toward me, I pretend to be sick when I feel fine, I pretend to accidentally lock the door when I‘m in the shower.

I pretend to be happy when I‘m breathing.

Aashkaar The rain came out of nowhere. No sprinkles to indicate what was coming. The sky just tipped over like a bucket of water and huge drops are falling hard against my window. 7mo
Aashkaar And i loved this dialogue by the male character, not the dialogue itself but the way it appears in book. You'll know it when you'll go thru the book. Anyway here it is: 7mo
Aashkaar the tears will come later, in the silence. 7mo
Aashkaar “You want to get out of here?” His voice is both a whisper and a plea. 7mo
Aashkaar And another one: 7mo
Aashkaar Sometimes this happens. One second I‘m in the shower, the next second I‘m not. I lose myself in the grief. I get so lost that by the time I climb my way out of the dark, I‘m in a new place. This new place is me, naked, in front of the bathroom mirror. 7mo
Aashkaar I didn‘t notice his sadness consumed him even more than it used to. I probably didn‘t notice because sadness is like a spiderweb. You don‘t see it until you‘re caught up in it, and then you have to claw at yourself to try to break free. 7mo
Aashkaar “We‘re all full of flaws. Hundreds of them. They‘re like tiny holes all over our skin. And like your fortune said, sometimes we shine too much light on our own flaws. But there are some people who try to ignore their own flaws by shining light on other people‘s to the point that the other person‘s flaws become their only focus. They pick at them, little by little, until they rip wide open and that‘s all we become to them. One giant, gaping flaw.” 7mo
Aashkaar And some more: 7mo
Aashkaar “Don‘t be so hard on yourself,” he says. “Now you know exactly what to look for. When you meet someone who is good for you, they won‘t fill you with insecurities by focusing on your flaws. They‘ll fill you with inspiration, because they‘ll focus on all the best parts of you.”

I pray he can‘t feel the intense pounding of my heart right now. I swallow hard and then choke out a pathetic sentence. “That‘s . . . really beautiful.”

Aashkaar And this one: 7mo
Aashkaar I move the pillow and just as I‘m about to reach for the alarm, it cuts off. I open my eyes and Graham is rolling back over to face me. He‘s not wearing a shirt and it looks like he just woke up.

He smiles and pecks me on the lips. “I couldn‘t sleep,” he says. “Finally gave up and came over here after midnight.”

I smile, even though it‘s way too early for me to feel like smiling. “You missed me.”

Aashkaar (CONT'D) Graham pulls me against him. “It‘s weird,” he says. “I used to be fine when I was alone. But now that I have you, I‘m lonely when I‘m alone.”

Sometimes he says the sweetest things. Words I want to write down and keep forever so that I‘ll never forget them.

Aashkaar Uhh... Coming to a halt here! Guys there's a lot more to this book and i hope you'll enjoy it more than i can imagine. 7mo
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Blindness | Jos Saramago
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#OneWordReview : "MASTERPIECE".

Here are some of my favorite quotes from the book:

"Inside us there is something that has no name, that something is what we are."

“The difficult thing isn't living with other people, it's understanding them.”

"I don't think we did go blind, I think we are blind, Blind but seeing, Blind people who can see, but do not see"

(due to word limit I'm adding some more quotes in comment section below)

Aashkaar Some more:--> 7mo
Aashkaar “the only thing more terrifying than blindness is being the only one who can see.” 7mo
Aashkaar “all stories are like those about the creation of the universe, no one was there, no one witnessed anything, yet everyone knows what happened.” 7mo
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Aashkaar “You have no idea what it is like to watch two blind people fighting. Fighting has always been, more or less, a form of blindness.” 7mo
Aashkaar “That we're going to die is something we know from the moment we are born, That's why, in some ways, it's as if we were born dead.” 7mo
Aashkaar “there is nothing in this world that belongs to us in an absolute sense” 7mo
Aashkaar (when the girl with dark glasses begins to weep) "Be quiet" the doctor's wife said gently, " let's all keep quiet, there are times when words serve no purpose, if only I, too, could weep, say everything with tears, not have to speak in order to be understood." 7mo
Aashkaar “Fear can cause blindness, said the girl with dark glasses, Never a truer word, that could not be truer, we were already blind the moment we turned blind, fear struck us blind, fear will keep us blind” 7mo
Aashkaar “Without a future, the present serves no purpose,” 7mo
Aashkaar I guess i need to come to a halt. There are lot of lines from this book which i totally fell in love with, but i guess i should leave some of them for you guys to discover by yourself.. 7mo
rachaich I loved this book. Seriously in awe of it. I think I watched the film after but it's the book that stuck with me :) 7mo
Aashkaar Yeah.. One thing the movie does exceptionally well is cinematography. They have done very good job at adapting the book and its language into visual form. At least that's what i think. 7mo
Aashkaar I especially loved the ending of book and the protagonist "Doctor's Wife" 7mo
pdever Great book! 7mo
Redwritinghood He is one of my favorite authors. I still need to reading “Seeing”, though. 7mo
Aashkaar Me too. I haven't read it but from what i have came to know about it, it's not the direct continuation of blindness. It's different story within same story world if I'm not wrong. Though i have heard that the doctor and his wife do make appearance in the sequel but not as main protagonists. 7mo
ShyBookOwl I've been curious about this one. I hear it has a unique structure 7mo
Aashkaar Yeah.. The style is quite unique. Many long sentences are there in which commas take the place of periods, quotation marks, semicolons and colons. There are no quotation marks. So its slightly difficult for one to guess who's speaking to whom. But it's totally done on purpose. 7mo
Aashkaar And there are no proper character names, we just get to know them by their profession or particular trait or relationship to another character eg. Doctor, doctor's wife, girl with dark glasses, etc. 7mo
Carolyn11215 This book messed with my head something fierce. I read it while my mom was going blind. Not an ideal time to read...scared the bejesus out of me. 7mo
CaitlinR Added it to my TBR based on the description, your quotes., and the comments. Thanks 7mo
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RadicalReader Never seen a more beautiful combination of sunset and ocean 7mo
Aashkaar Wonders of Nature! 7mo
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A Room of One's Own | Virginia Woolf
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Happy Women's Day!

Eggs Welcome to Litsy 🤗🌸 7mo
Aashkaar Thanks 7mo
Becker I always struggled with Virginia Woolf until I read this. Then I fell in love 🥰 7mo
72 likes3 comments
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When I understand myself, I understand you, and out of that understanding comes love.

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You must understand the whole of life, not just one little part of it. That is why you must read, that is why you must look at the skies, that is why you must sing and dance, and write poems and suffer and understand, for all that is life.

Venetian Epigrams: Translations from Goethe | Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe, Sen Lysaght
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Is it so big a mystery
what god and man and world are?
No! but nobody knows how to solve it
so the mystery hangs on.

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I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

KathyWheeler I love this so much! 7mo
Aashkaar Same here! 7mo
dalma_st_paul @irutikk I love this line? What about this "I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too" by
Aashkaar @dalma_st_paul Pablo Neruda is bard of Love... 😍 7mo
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The People of Paper | Salvador Plascencia
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I don‘t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.

tpixie Great quotes!!! 7mo
Aashkaar Yeah...it's a beautiful book and these are one of my favorite lines from the book. 7mo
43 likes2 comments
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Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star.
It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago.
Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.

Again The Magic | Lisa Kleypas
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I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.

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A Scanner Darkly | Philip K. Dick
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But the actual touch of her lingered, inside his heart. That remained. In all the years of his life ahead, the long years without her, with never seeing her or hearing from her or knowing anything about her, if she was alive or happy or dead or what, that touch stayed locked within him, sealed in himself, and never went away. That one touch of her hand.

Linda_Bloodworth_Author Yaaaaaasss! Philip K Dick is my ultimate favourite author. 6mo
Aashkaar 🤔Seems like i just found a companion! 😊 6mo
34 likes2 comments
A Scanner Darkly | Philip K. Dick
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Imagine being sentient but not alive. Seeing and even knowing, but not alive. Just looking out. Recognizing but not being alive. A person can die and still go on. Sometimes what looks out at you from a person's eyes maybe died back in childhood.

Suet624 Oh boy. 😭😭 7mo
Reggie Jesus. 7mo
35 likes2 stack adds2 comments
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If I could have him like this in my dreams every night of my life, I'd stake my entire life on dreams and be done with the rest.

Suet624 All of this post is beautiful. 7mo
Skyrimir I‘ve got this one coming in the mail! Looking forward to reading it. 7mo
Aashkaar I assure you that its a very beautiful read. It was first time for me to read gay literature but then, the best part is that i found myself totally connected to it, to the protagonists especially. And by the end, it wasn't about gender or sexuality but more about love. It was all that mattered and that's how i found it relatable 7mo
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Aashkaar Towards the end it made my eyes teary. 7mo
Reggie Oof, this book, ripped my heart out. I don‘t even want to watch that movie. Why break my heart twice. 7mo
Aashkaar I think i understand! 😢 But the movie is awesome too.. I'd say both are incomparable. You should watch the movie. 7mo
Christy2318 Loved the book. Loved the movie. Planning on listening to the audio read by Armie Hammer...pretty sure I will cry again so I‘ll have to listen on evening commutes when I‘m going straight home. 😂 7mo
Aashkaar Hell, i haven't tried audio book yet. Well that's a real shame for me cause that thought never crossed my mind. Thanks for putting this beautiful idea into my mind. I'm gonna enjoy audiobook now. 7mo
31 likes8 comments
In Search of Lost Time | Marcel Proust
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Love is a striking example of how little reality means to us.

CrowCAH Welcome to the Litsy family!!! 📚 7mo
Aashkaar Thanks! 7mo
Alwaysbeenaloverofbooks Welcome to Litsy!! 7mo
Aashkaar Yeah... Thanks... I'm glad to be here! 7mo
31 likes4 comments
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That was what death was like:
trapped in a small space with a big weight holding you down for all eternity.

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They want me.
I want you.
And you want someone else.
But none of us want to turn around.

jenniferajanes Welcome to Litsy! 🎉📚 7mo
Aashkaar Thanks! 7mo
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Aashkaar Thanks! It feels quite good to have you all guys. 7mo
Chelleo Welcome to Litsy! Hope these #Litsytips by @RaimeyGallant http://bit.ly/litsytips and #LitsyHowTo videos: goo.gl/UrCpoU are helpful. There‘s so many fun things to do: book exchanges, buddy reads, photo challenges and more! 7mo
Aashkaar Wow... I didn't know about all this stuff. Thanks dude.. That's helpful. 7mo
DarcysMom Welcome to Litsy! 🤩 7mo
Aashkaar Thanks! 7mo
StillLookingForCarmenSanDiego Welcome to Litsy 📖💖 7mo
ValkyrieAndHerBooks Welcome to Litsy!🎉📚💕 7mo
BookwormAHN Welcome to Litsy 😺 7mo
RaimeyGallant Welcome! 7mo
PurpleyPumpkin Welcome to Litsy! It‘s a great community and I hope you enjoy it here. Enjoying your posts so far. 😉👍🏽 7mo
Aashkaar I'm glad that you liked my posts. I'm just trying to share what captivates my heart. Thanks! 7mo
ProfReader Welcome to Litsy!!! ❤️💜♥️💕💚 7mo
Nute Welcome to Litsy! It‘s a warm and friendly community. I know that you will enjoy yourself here. I‘m looking forward to getting to know you.🙂 7mo
Aashkaar Me too 7mo
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