Y. S.

“She smelled sometimes of lemons, sometimes of sage, sometimes of roses, sometimes of bay leaf. At times I would no longer hear what it was she was saying; I just liked to look at her mouth as it opened and closed over words, or as she laughed. How terrible it must be for all the people who had no one to love them so and no one whom they loved so, I thought.”
― Jamaica Kincaid, Annie John

“. . . doesn't it seem odd that Gowing's always coming and Cummings' always going?”
― George Grossmith, The Diary of a Nobody

“as soon as a work of art is of practical use, betrays a purpose or a tendency its beauty vanishes.”
― August Strindberg, The Red Room

“Naked you are blue like the night in Cuba,
you have vines and stars in your hair,”
― Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets