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“Un drama vital siempre puede expresarse mediante una metáfora referida al peso. Decimos que sobre la persona cae el peso de los acontecimientos. La persona soporta esa carga o no la soporta, cae bajo su peso, gana o pierde. ¿Pero qué le sucedió a Sabina? Nada. Había abandonado a un hombre porque quería abandonarlo. ¿La persiguió él? ¿Se vengó? No. Su drama no era el drama del peso, sino el de la levedad. Lo que había caído sobre Sabina no era una carga, sino la insoportable levedad del ser.”
― Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

“I glance at the house, dark and empty. "Am I my sister's keeper?" I say. Then I grin at her. "If you feel like waiting, you can come up and see my etchings.”
― Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper

“New York City is finished," he said. "They can't keep order there, and you can't have business without order. It'll take a hundred years to sort things out and get it all going again."
"What do you hear of the U.S. government? I said. "We don't have electricity an hour a month anymore and there's nothing on the air but the preachers anyway."
"Well, I hear that this Harvey Albright pretends to be running things out of Minneapolis now. It was Chicago, but that may have gone by the boards. Congress hasn't met since twelve twenty-one." Ricketts said, using a common shorthand for the destruction of Washington a few days before Christmas some years back. "We're still fighting skirmishes with Mexico. The Everglades are drowning. Trade is becoming next to impossible, from everything I can tell, and business here is drying up. It all seems like a bad dream. The future sure isn't what it used to be, is it?"
"We believe in the future, sir. Only it's not like the world we've left behind," Joseph said.
"How's that?"
"We're building our own New Jerusalem up the river. it's a world made by hand, now, one stone at a time, one board at a time, one hope at a time, one soul at a time. . .”
― James Howard Kunstler, World Made by Hand

“It's called a culling song. In some ancient cultures, they sand it to children during famines or droughts, anytime the tribe had outgrown its land. It was sung to warriors injured in accidents or the very old or anyone dying. It was used to end misery and pain. It's a lullaby”
― Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby

“To the right of the Red Pit there lay a long, sinuous glare, which I knew as the Vale of Red Fire, and beyond that for many dreary miles the blackness of the Night Land; across which came the coldness of the light from the Plain of Blue Fire.”
― William Hodgenson

“I finish tweaking my lyrics, then title the song 'Half-way Through the Crossfade.' I record myself playing it on the keyboard and singing it. It feels good. It feels right.I'm saying my truth, and I'm not afraid people won't like it. In fact, I hope it makes people think. I hope it's a light in the dark for anyone who feels like they have to be one thing or the other when both can be true.”
― Jules Machias, Both Can Be True

“Now it’s possible we get one last surprise snow, but I just doubt that. Our luck ain’t that good. So, if it’s bout to be any season, it’s gonna be the season of the monster, and should we encounter ‘em, we’ll need a plan.”
― A.J. Humphreys, Spring

“Ellie Wasserman: Raging Man-Hating Rhymes-with-Witch."
"But that's so wrong," Ellie said indignantly. "I'm not a misandrist. I was just trying to get my work done. Isn't that what you pay me for?"
Tad pressed his forehead into his palms. "I take your point, Ellie, but the last time I checked, having a public temper tantrum wasn't in your job description. I'm surprised, and I'm disappointed."
The last word was like a needle, and Ellie instantly deflated.”
― Sarah Chamberlain, The Slowest Burn