Actually we did not have the feelings we said we had until we spoke them—at least I didn’t; to phrase them was to invent them and own them.
— Philip Roth, Goodbye, Columbus and Five Short Stories (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth, like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness.
— Jonathan Safran Foer (via amortizing)
If I have left a wound inside you, it is not just your wound but mine as well.
— Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)