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Quote by María Casares

“Everything is burning, my soul, body, outside, inside, heart, flesh… Do you understand? Do you really understand?”

Quote by María Casares

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María Casares

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“Hey Tot, You probably hate that name, don't you? Thinking it's an insult, a commentary about your appearance. Maybe it started out that way, me trying to put you down, put you in your place--- somewhere far from me, where you couldn't make me feel like I was bleeding from the inside out. But I don't think of it that way anymore. It makes me think of you as a hot little bite I want to sink my teeth into. Truth? I'd wanted to do that even when I said the words. I always wanted to sink into you. Didn't matter if you drove me crazy, I wanted it so much it made my teeth hurt.”

“Bridgeport, Wis. July 11, 1987 I write this letter to myself, so that the postmark may prove beyond controversy the day and year that it was written, and I shall not open it but shall place it among my effects against the day when someone, a member of my own family, God willing, may open it and read. And reading, know the thing that I believe and think, but dare not say while I am still alive, lest someone call me touched. For I have not long to live. I have lasted more than a man’s average allotted span, and while I still am hale and hearty, I know full well the hand of time, while it may miss a man at one reaping, will get him at the next. I have no morbid fear of death, nor any sentimental wish to gain the brief immortality that a thought accorded me after I am dead may give me, for the thought itself will be a fleeting one and the one who holds it himself will not have too many years of life, for the years of man are short . . . far too short for any perfect understanding of any of the problems that a lifetime poses. While it is more than likely that this letter will be read by my immediate descendants, who are well acquainted with me, I am still aware that through some vagary of fate it may fall yet unopened into the hands of someone many years after I am long forgotten, or even into the hands of strangers. Feeling that the circumstance which I have to tell is of more than ordinary interest, even at the risk of reporting something which may be well known to the one who reads this letter, I shall here include some of the basic facts about myself and my locality and situation.”

“It’s weird to be twenty-seven and still be believing in fairytales, but it feels normal. I don’t think I’ll be comfortable thinking through love, planning on it, and calculating the probability. That doesn’t mean I will not ugly up my house with practical things, or I won’t fight over laundry. I just think it’s such a strange thing for me to be in love with half my heart and all my brain. I don’t want a dull and practical love life, much less a marriage.”