And Your Lips Rise From The Dead In Each Of My Smiles.

Some people are just that good, they have this soldier-saint part of them intact and it takes your breath because you keep forgetting human beings can sometimes be paragons.

Niall Williams, History of the Rain

Anne Boleyn’s Tiny Golden Psalm Book - she’s said to have handed it to one of her Maid’s of Honour moments before she was executed in 1536. 

The pictures show a miniature of Henry Vlll on the left, with gothic cursive script on the facing page, and the gold tracery covers.

burn like a meteor and leave no dust.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

An attempt to intensify the horror by containing it in symmetry.

- Heather Christle, The Crying Book

he does not understand the reason for the moon

Garous Abdolmalekian, Long Poem of Loneliness tr. Ahmed Nadalizadeh and Idra Novey

Still he looked; still he paused. It is these pauses that are our undoing.

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

I fear that to write so much about crying will tempt a universal law of irony to invite tragedy into my life.

- Heather Christle, The Crying Book

I found this really cool list of women’s translations of ancient Greek and Roman texts! It lists English-language translations dating from the 17th century to 2015. 

For the poet is a light and winged and holy thing,

Plato, Ion tr. Benjamin Jowett

It is a mistake therefore to compare someone writing about his own life to an exhibitionist, since the latter has only one desire: to show himself and be seen at the same time.

Annie Ernaux, Simple Passion