Simon Van Booy Quotes - Page 3

The passions we cannot control are the ones that define us.

We touched with a softness that pushed through the skin into memory, like arms plunged into a river - we could feel the weight of each other's stones.

Love is also a violence, and cannot be undone.

But say you do find the right people - how do you love them without smothering them?...How do you not suffocate them with all the love you've built up in their absence?

Language is like drinking from one's own reflection in still water. We only take from it what we are at the time.

It's tempting to imagine how we could hurt someone close, because it reminds us how fiercely we love them.

I don’t see the point of truth anymore, it causes just as much heartbreak as lying.

Where are people going? I wonder what they hope will happen and what they are afraid of? For me it's the same thing and has to do with being loved.

When somebody leaves this plane—or, if you like, goes into another room—those left behind sometimes try and stop loving—but this is a mistake, because even if you have loved only once in your life, you’re ruined.

We see in others what we want and what we fear.

I think music is what language once aspired to be. Music allows us to face God on our own terms because it reaches beyond life.

Death is the most sophisticated form of beauty, and the most difficult to accept.

But those who seek only reassurance from life will never be more than tourists—seeing everything and trying to possess what can only be felt. Beauty is the shadow of imperfection.

I didn’t know who she was, but I had this fire inside me for someone I knew existed.

Language is like looking at a map of somewhere. Love is living there and surviving on the land.

Love requires imagination more than experience.

It's true the people we meet shape us. But the people we don't meet shape us also, often more because we have imagined them so vividly. There are people we yearn for but never seem to meet.

Even if you have loved only once in your life, you're ruined.

Could it be that first love was the only true love? And that after those first fires had been doused or burned out, men and women chose whom they would love based on worldly needs, and then reenacted the rituals and feelings of that first pure experience - nursed the flames that once burned of their own accord

Every day is a masterpiece, even if it crushes you.

I tried to convey to the boy how people's lives are often altered by curved lines read slowly from paper, sand, or stone.

The beauty of artifacts is in how they reassure us we’re not the first to die.

Perhaps we were each allotted only a certain amount of love - enough for only an initial meeting - a serendipitous clumsiness. When it leaves to find others, the difficulty begins because we are faced with our humanness, our past, our very being.

Some studies show that we're physically attracted, like animal attraction, to people that have a different immune system to us. So even though I love cologne, it's probably keeping me from finding a good mate.

Athens is the birthplace of modern tragedy. In the Greek tragic plays, the tableau of the characters would become a statue, like the statue of Oedipus reaching up to the Gods with blood spilling out of his eyes. I love the way the Greeks would immortalize experience. Things that all of us feel.