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This is why dreams can be such dangerous things: they smolder on like a fire does, and sometimes consume us completely.”
p. 106
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“To be away from home, yet to feel oneself everywhere at home: to see the world, to be at the center of the world and yet to be hidden from the world – such are a few of the slightest pleasures of those with an independent, passionate, impartial nature.”
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page 166
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“Life can’t be measured by time,” he said. “It’s merely a series of impressions.”
page 289
Repost from Facebook [November 27 2010 21:58]:
…
When you drop a glass or a plate to the ground it makes a loud crashing sound. When a window shatters, a table leg breaks, or a picture falls off the wall, it makes a noise. But as for your heart, when that breaks, it’s completely silent. You would think as it’s so important it would make the loudest noise in the whole world or even have some sort of ceremonious sound like the gong of a cymbal or the ringing of a bell. But it’s silent and you almost wish there was a noise to distract you from the pain.
If there is a noise, it’s internal. It screams and no one can hear it but you. It screams so loudly your ears ring and your head aches. It thrashes around in your chest like a great white caught in the sea, it roars like a mother bear whose cub has been taken. That’s what it looks like and that’s what it sounds like, a thrashing, panicking, trapped, a great big beast, roaring like a prisoner to its own emotions. But that’s the thing about love; no one is untouchable. It’s as wild as that, as raw as an open flesh would exposed to salty sea water, but when it actually breaks, it’s silent, you’re just screaming on the inside and no one can hear it.
….
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No one can pull anyone back from anywhere. You save yourself or you remain unsaved.
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It was only when i knew what it was like for someone to love me, when I knew that I deserved to be loved and that the only thing he wanted was to simply be with me, only then did I want to live every minute of everyday and stop hiding from everything by devising backup plan in case things did not work out.
After all this happening, I am back to my normal busy life. Unfortunately, this week in Literature, we learn about L.O.V.E. In my opinion, this sucks. But after reading my assignment, I learnt something.
“Not that people think that love is not important. They are starved for it; they watch endless numbers of films about happy and unhappy love stories, they listen to hundreds of trashy songs about love – yet hardly anyone thinks that there is anything that needs to be learned about love.”
Yeah. Truthfully speaking, I’ve never thought about it. Because when you’re in love, all you think about is the person you love. You don’t have time to think about what it is and why you love him/her.
“Most people see the problem of love primarily as that of being loved, rather than that of loving, of one’s capacity to love. In pursuit of this aim, they follow several paths.”
Love means that you are going to be selfish. It’s like I’m selfish to force you to take care of me. I’m so sorry about it. It was too late to realize. Actually, I meant nothing to you right now. Just only you mean the world to me. I was so stupid to project what I thought on you. 
. I bet you suffered a lot. Loving means giving. And I am going to give everything I have.
“A second premise behind the attitude that there is nothing to be learned about love is the assumption that the problem of love is the problem of an object, not the problem of a faculty. People think that to love is simple, but that to find the right object to love – or to be loved by – is difficult.”
Of course, you can love thousands of things, but you are never sure if those things or people are going to love you. Therefore, love is an art, just like living.
“The process of learning an art can be divided conveniently into 2 parts: one, the mastery of the theory; the other, the mastery of the practice. But aside from learning the theory and practice, there is a third factor necessary to becoming a master in any art – the mastery of the art must be a matter of ultimate concern; there must be nothing else in the world more important than the art.”
It comes from the heart!
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”
Dear anh,
Lần đầu tiên trong năm nay thấy nhẹ nhỏm. Cũng khá lâu rồi! Cách đây 2 năm, không nói chuyện với anh. Chắc tại mấy hôm trước em lên mạng post một vài cái status và 1 cái note khá là cô đơn nên anh mò lên yahoo tìm em, phải không anh? Không phải vì em không có ai nói chuyện đâu anh àh. Tại vì em không muốn nói chuyện thôi. Khá là phức tạp và dài dòng đấy anh. Thôi, có anh nghe em kể chuyện là vui rồi anh àh . Em vào đại học rồi anh. Bận qwá! Anh cũng đi làm và đi học phải không? Sao nghe anh kể, em thấy giống hồi thập niên 70 80 ở Trung Quốc qwá anh hảh? Hehe. Anh về cũng sắp 1 năm rồi. Nhanh quá! Thế mà em còn cực khổ cày học bên này nè . Trời, kinh khủng nhất là hồi em đi làm bên này íh. Hôm trước em qwên kể anh nghe mất. Thôi, em mà kể là anh lại dài dòng dạy dỗ em như hôm nay. Không phải em chê anh già nói nhiều đâu, biết là anh muốn em tốt mà! Thôi, kể cũng vui . Hè về nhé anh!
Gửi anh Hahn,
Dear You,
Today I was so sad . I hate it when they said bad things about me. I wonder Facebook would be a place for stalkers like them. They like to criticize me for what I did and what I did NOT! I felt so sad. Don’t try to be hard on me. I felt so sorry. I know nothing about it. They kept haunting me. Why? Why? Why?
…
I felt sorry for you. But for what happened lately, I know you made a good choice.
Live for it .
Take time to heal the pain.
Smile the pain that lights my heart. Tell me the things that we like most. And importantly, be the one that is best fit for you
