“Still, she loves the world for being rude and indestructible, and she knows other people must love it too, poor as well as rich, though no one speaks specifically of the reasons. Why else do we struggle to go on living, no matter how compromised, no matter how harmed?”

The Hours, Michael Cunningham

“There is true art in this, this command of tea and dinner tables; this animating correctness. Men may congratulate themselves for writing truly and passionately about the movement of nations; they may consider war and the search for God to be great literature's only subjects; but if men's standing in the world could be toppled by an ill-advised choice of hat, English literature would be dramatically changed.”

The Hours, Michael Cunningham

“We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep. It's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out windows, or drown themselves, or take pills; more die by accident; and most of us are slowly devoured by some disease, or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, though everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning, we hope, more than anything for more. Heaven only knows why we love it so...There she is with another hour before her.”

The Hours, Michael Cunningham

“Yes, Clarissa thinks, it's time for the day to be over. We throw our parties; we abandon our families to live alone in Canada; we struggle to write books that do not change the world, despite our gifts and unstinting efforts, our most extravagant hopes. We live our lives, do whatever we do, and then we sleep-- it's as simple and ordinary as that. A few jump out of windows or drown themselves or take pills; more die by accident and most of us, the vast majority, are slowly devoured by some disease or, if we're very fortunate, by time itself. There's just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against all odds an expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever imagined, thought everyone but children (and perhaps even they) know these hours will inevitably be followed by others, far darker and more difficult. Still, we cherish the city, the morning; we hope, more then anything, for more.”

The Hours, Michael Cunningham

“I miss the kiss of treachery
The aching kiss before I feed
The stench of a love for a younger
meat
And the sound that it makes when it cuts.”

Disintegration, The Cure Recommended by Kristina.

“Sometimes there's nothing to feel
Sometimes there's nothing to hold
Sometimes there's no time to run away
Sometimes you just feel so old
The times it hurts when you cry
The times it hurts just to breathe
And then it all seems like there's no-one left
And all you want is to sleep.”

Fight, The Cure Recommended by Kristina.

“I'll try to make this perfectly clear
I'm so transparent I disappear.”

Sink to the Beat, Cursive

“I could never get your attention
I could never please you
The verses are wasted on words you won't relate to
On words you'll never hear.”

The Rhyme Scheme, Cursive