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Quote by Marissa Byfield

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The Soft Fall

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Marissa Byfield

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“Mind ennek az országnak a földjében pihennek. A halottak könnyen lépnek át minden határt. Ő lesz az első közülük, aki hamvaiban már nem fog hazatérni. De a Fiú lesz az első, aki majd megtagadja, hogy fizesse az ismeretlen halottak utáni kötelező temetői díjat. Mi már ide úgysem fogunk visszatérni, magyarázza neki, ez mind fölösleges pazarlás. Valakinek ki kell mondani, hogy a visszatérés sosem fog megtörténni.”

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Book:Haza
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“Aren’t we formed by the landscape we came from? I am a product of that earth and of the water that bubbles up from the springs. I can feel the floorboards under my feet, picture the rafters over my head, which came from the woods we played in. At night my dreams are full of the ghosts and echoes of my forebears; I am woken by their laughter and sighs. At Trelawney, I was part of a continuum, a pattern, but here in London I am nothing, no one. My tap water has been through eight other bodies, none of whom I will know or ever meet. Maybe I walk past them in the street, maybe not. I eat food grown in a country I’ll never visit. At Trelawney I had an identity. Here I am simply a statistic.”

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Book:House of Trelawney
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“The only piece of home Ofelia had been able to take with her were some of her books. She closed her fingers firmly around the one on her lap, caressing the cover. When she opened the book, the white pages were so bright against the shadows that filled the forest and the words they offered granted shelter and comfort. The letters were like footprints in the snow, a wide white landscape untouched by pain, unharmed by memories too dark to keep, too sweet to let go of.”

HomeBooksComfortSafetySereneGuillermo Del ToroPans Labyrinth
Book:Pan's Labyrinth: The Labyrinth of the Faun
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“When did I lose that natural sense of accomplishment that came with everyday tasks? Was it upon the birth of baby number two, three, or four? Or did I retain it even through my sixth pregnancy, when I bleached everything in sight, washing my cotton nightgown so frequently that the bright bluebell pattern faded to a dull gray? To this day, I can recall the fresh scent of the bleached and sun-dried gown and bedsheets. It wasn’t until I’d gotten through a difficult labor and delivery, and my head hit the hospital pillow, that I realized I’d attempted to replicate the smell of hospital linens—the one place I was able to get some rest.”

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Book:Called to Be Creative: A Guide to Reigniting Your Creativity
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