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Quote by Peter Høeg

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Smilla's Sense of Snow

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Author

Peter Høeg

Peter Høeg is a renowned Danish writer born on May 17, 1957. His works are known for their unique narrative style and profound thematic exploration, with notable titles including 'The Danish Girl' and 'Smilla's Sense of Snow'. Høeg's novels often blend reality with fantasy, captivating readers with his distinctive voice. more

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“Maybe I had had an illusion, I thought. I stood there a long time, gazing at the rainswept streets. Once again, I was a twelve-year-old boy staring for hours at the rain. Look at the rain long enough, with no thoughts in your head, and you gradually feel your body falling loose, shaking free of the world of reality. Rain has the power to hypnotize. But this had been no illusion. When I went back into the bar, a glass and an ashtray remained where she had been. A couple of lightly crushed cigarette butts were lined up in the ashtray, a faint trace of lipstick on each. I sat down and closed my eyes. Echoes of music faded away, leaving me alone. In that gentle darkness, the rain continued to fall without a sound.”

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Book:South of the Border, West of the Sun
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“She closed her eyes and felt him inside her skin. Where he was vibrant and smart and irreverent and loving. She saw his smile, heard his laugh. Felt his hands. Felt his body. Now he was gone. But he hadn't left. And she sometimes wondered if that was him, beating on her heart. And she wondered what would happen if he stopped. Every night she came here. Parked. And stared at the window. Hoping to see some sign of life.”

LifeLongingNostalgia
Book:How the Light Gets In
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“Interlaken Get a running start. Catch a good wind, he said: Be a good bird. I thought him German as his hand did the wave––tumult of syllables, the ocean. A gust carried us from the top of a ridge to where land helixes hug vague bodies of water, pebbled pastures skimming treelines across the range littered with wildflowers. Winds lilted: It’s not your day to go, as I watched clouds blush vermillion, flying in tandem as a crow does over reservoirs and glacial gorges. That high up, I thought maybe we could fall in love, full of pomp and spectacle, but he was a stranger, and to him, I was strange; possibly ugly. Everyone peddles timing––the random alchemy of abutting molecules––though I’ve grown weary of waiting. Stillness is the danger. So I spread out my arms, carved ciphers into ether while a choir could be heard along the nave where winding trails scissor the basin. Spiraling downward, I mouthed a new prayer, knelt in air for deliverance, morphing into needle of a compass, unbeholden to a place inhospitable: the mind. The mind bent on forgetting: I was blown wide open.”

LovePoetryPoemMindfulnessLongingWildflowers
Author:Su Hwang
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“To her surprise, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. For a moment, Claire couldn’t see his face properly. When he let go of her hand and looked up at her again, there was a peculiar expression on his face. It was full of longing, and it went so deep that Claire’s heart shattered. She didn’t feel sympathy for him. It was more a case of feeling a similar yearning, and it seemed to push her heart all the way to the back of her ribcage where it was being strangled against her spine and was likely to be squeezed out of life.”

LoveRomanceLonging
Book:A World Other Than Her Own
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“We ache with the yearning that turns half into whole and offer no excuses for the beauty of our souls.”

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Book:Songs from the Black Skylark zPed Music Player
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