There are some things about myself I can’t explain to anyone. There are some things I don’t understand at all. I can’t tell what I think about things or what I’m after. I don’t know what my strengths are or what I’m supposed to do about them. But if I start thinking about these things in too much detail the whole thing gets scary.

— Haruki Murakami

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Read, every day, something no one else is reading. Think, every day, something no one else is thinking. Do, every day, something no one else would be silly enough to do. It is bad for the mind to be always part of unanimity.

— Christopher Morley

And you read one page of it [book] or even one phrase of it, and then you gobble up all the rest and go about in a dream for weeks afterwards, for month afterwards—perhaps all your life, who knows ?—surrounded by those six hundred and fifty pages, the houses, the streets, the snow, the river, the roses, the girls, the sun, the ladies’ dresses and the gentlemen’s voices, the old, wicked, hard-hearted women and the old, sad women, the waltz music, everything. What is not there you put in afterwards, for it is alive, this book, and it grows in your head. ‘The house I was living in when I read that book,’ you think, or ‘This colour reminds me of that book.’

— Jean Rhys, from Till September Petronella

And yet I don’t want to cut right through everything and break out, but am just waiting along, letting it happen to me, and what comes takes on the habits and has the dimensions of dream.

— Rainer Maria Rilke, from a letter to Princess Marie von Thurn, July 12, 1912