“Take a moment in between breaths to let yourself see what’s left to be seen, all the places you’ve been. Your old haunts. I pass by them every day, and after all these years I’ll find myself wondering if they’re just facades, like the saloon fronts and gun shops of an old ghost town set. As if I can poke my head inside the doors in the light of day and see nothing but framed out rooms and sandy floors, existing for no other reason than to give structure to who I used to be.”

“Then you must reconcile yourself to the fact that something is always hurt by any change. If you do this, you will not be hurt yourself.”

“It’s how I fill the time when nothing’s happening. Thinking too much, flirting with melancholy.”

“Voi rakkaanisydän on kylmäja sammalta käteni kasvaaMinun reiteni mullassa hajoovat maaksiJa haudalla risti jo lahona on.Olen maa.Olen maa johon tahdot.”

“I often wish I’d got on better with your father,’ he said.But he never liked anyone who–our friends,’ said Clarissa; and could have bitten her tongue for thus reminding Peter that he had wanted to marry her.Of course I did, thought Peter; it almost broke my heart too, he thought; and was overcome with his own grief, which rose like a moon looked at from a terrace, ghastly beautiful with light from the sunken day. I was more unhappy than I’ve ever been since, he thought. And as if in truth he were sitting there on the terrace he edged a little towards Clarissa; put his hand out; raised it; let it fall. There above them it hung, that moon. She too seemed to be sitting with him on the terrace, in the moonlight.”

“Cyrano: The leaves—Roxane: What color—Perfect Venetian red! Look at them fall.Cyrano: Yes—they know how to die. A little wayFrom the branch to the earth, a little fearOf mingling with the common dust—and yetThey go down gracefully—a fall that seemsLike flying!”

“I’d like to die listening to a piece of music. I imagine this as so easy, so natural, but naturally it’s quite impossible. Notes stab too softly. The wounds they leave behind may smart, but they don’t fester. Melancholy and pain trickle out instead of blood. When the notes cease, all is peaceful within me again.”

“More often than not, I get lost in magical melancholic emotions and thoughts just to get a vacation from the boring realities of life.”

“Cut my life into pizzas. this is my plastic fork. oven baking, no breathing, dont give a fuck if its carbs that i’m eating’ -Catherine Spann”

“I’ll use the blood from my spilling heart to write the words that were never able to slip out of my mouth, so you can see how much you’ve broken me into a perpetual state of melancholy.”

“That which others hear or read of, I felt and practised myself; they get their knowledge by books, I mine by melancholizing.”

“For the philosopher is right who says that nothing thicker than a knife’s blade separates happiness from melancholy”

“For the philosopher is right who says that nothing is thicker than a knife’s blade separates happiness from melancholy”