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Quote by A.G STRANGER (Ahmed Ghrib)

“He pictured the smile he would have drawn on her lips had she read his words, had her heart kept on beating for one more day. He was perching on the edge of his town jetty thinking about the memories he had with her there, as a droplet of his tears became indistinguishable amongst the ocean of water beneath his feat.”

Quote by A.G STRANGER (Ahmed Ghrib)

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A.G STRANGER (Ahmed Ghrib)

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“«Εύχομαι να μη σε είχα συναντήσει ποτέ!» του είπε με χαμηλή φωνή. «Έτσι δεν θα υπήρχε λόγος να θέλω να σ’ εντυπωσιάζω. Δεν θα υπήρχε λόγος να σε θέλω. Δεν θα υπήρχε λόγος να κλαίω για σένα μέχρι να με πάρει ο ύπνος, ούτε να πονάω. Δεν θα είχε ραγίσει η καρδιά μου. Δεν θα με πλήγωναν οι ξεχασμένες υποσχέσεις που κάποτε ανταλλάξαμε. Δεν θα χρειαζόταν να υποκρίνομαι πως δεν με νοιάζει. Δεν θα χρειαζόταν ν’ αντέξω όλα όσα μου έχεις κάνει και που με άδειασαν. Δεν θα χρειαζόταν να σ’ αγαπάω.»”

LoveTearsLove StoryDramatic Moment
Book:Μέχρι το τέλος του χρόνου
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“Then his tears came once more, and feeling cold he went into his dressing-room to look for something to throw around his shoulders. But he had lost control of his hand so that it moved like a brainless creature and completely failed to carry out the small mathematical operation which consisted, because the inside of the wardrobe was dark, in fumbling a way through the different velvets, silks and satins of his mother's outmoded dresses which, since she had given up wearing them, for many years, she had put away in this piece of furniture, until it could feel the wooden jamb, far back, which separated these garments from his own, and, on reaching the second rough-surfaced coat, to take it from the hanger from which it depended. Instead, it tore down the first piece of fabric it encountered. This happened to be a black velvet coat, trimmed with braid, and lined with cherry-coloured satin and ermine, which, mauled by the violence of his attack, he pulled into the room like a young maiden whom a conqueror has seized and dragged behind him by the hair. In just such a way did Jean now brandish it, but even before his eyes had sent their message to his brain, he was aware of an indefinable fragrance in the velvet, a fragrance that had greeted him when, at ten years old, he had run to kiss his mother—in those days still young, still brilliant and still happy—when she was all dressed up and ready to go out, and flung his arms about her waist, the velvet crushed within his hand, the braid tickling his cheeks, while his lips, pressed to her forehead, breathed in the glittering sense of all the happiness she seemed to hold in keeping for him.”

TearsSmellsInvoluntary MemoryVelvet Coat
Book:Jean Santeuil
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“I figured we really shouldn’t grieve for those who leave us for God. They’ve arrived at their destinations with lucky souls no longer burdened by our piddling human considerations. It may seem cruel when they die so young or so beautiful or so loved. Cry not for them, for the life not lived. Cry only for your own hurt in missing them. That’s the only true loss. And in those sad moments when you remember a touch, or catch them watching from the corner of your eye, understand they left you with a lesson. Everyone who touches your life teaches you something important you’re meant to learn. Somehow their visit here pushed your own soul along its path. Learning that lesson is the best way you can honor them.”

LossGriefJourneyTearsLessonsLoved OnesRememberingLessons LearnedSaddnessLife S JourneyMemries
Book:Trusting the Currents
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