Poem by Naomi Shihab Nye, whose father was a Palestinian refugee. From her 2019 book; ‘The Tiny Journalist’
What is the feeling when you're driving away from people, and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? - it's the too huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.
'On the Road' by Jack Kerouac
What is ~time~
“Yeah, my mom says that love is like music. One day you just – hear it.” “Whoa. First of all, I never said I loved Patrick. But I think I know what she means. I don’t think she means actual music, Bridge. She means that you know it when you feel it. Like music – you know it when you heart it.” “Okay, so love is also like a hamburger? You know it when you taste it?” Em laughed. “A hamburger is more deliberate. You have to make it, or ask for it. … Music just kind of breaks over you.”
Goodbye Stranger by Rebecca Stead
Despair is a cavern beneath our feet and we teeter on its very brink
'The Year of Wonders' by Geraldine Brooks
"Words offer the means to meaning, and for those who will listen, the enunciation of truth."
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