hina sabatine

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by Pat Cadigan (Goodreads Author)
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We Are Dreams in ...
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Kamand Kojouri
“How absurd is it
that when we are in love,
we divide the world into two.
One that holds our lover
and the other that holds
everyone else.
What is even more absurd
is that we live in that second world
and every day, we pass by strangers
who remind us of our lover:
how they are like them
and how they are not.”
Kamand Kojouri

Angela N. Blount
“I didn't just love him…I needed him. Not in some desperate "you complete me" sort of way. No, Vincent didn’t make me whole. He improved me. Something about him—something I didn't understand—had a way of amplifying the good in my nature while muting the bad. He was a catalyst for my soul. I didn't need him in order to exist...I needed him in order to be a better me.”
Angela N. Blount, Once Upon an Ever After

Sanober  Khan
“your smile.
is the ultimate
golden dream.
all the poems
in the world
are waking up from.”
Sanober Khan

Kim Harrison
“His expression became serious, and his hand almost slipped from mine. "I've had a long time to think about it."

"This can't work!"

He looked down, then jerked his head up in frustration as his finger tightened on mine. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Rachel. I just ..."

My heart pounded, and he stepped closer, so close the scent of cinnamon and wine enveloped me.

"I like walking into a room and seeing your face light up when you see me," he said earnestly, the sun from the open window making his hair glow. "I like arguing with Quen over the wisdom of employing a demon to be my security."

My throat caught. This wasn't going to happen, but something in me was withering. I wanted more--and I knew I couldn't have it.

He touched my hair, and I twitched as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want to wake up beside you, see your curls on my pillow. I want a chance at falling in love.”

My breath came fast. That was what I wanted too, and it hurt more than I thought was possible to survive.”
Kim Harrison, The Undead Pool

Milan Kundera
“The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful ... Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory.”
Milan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being

206623 Existential Book Club — 1505 members — last activity Mar 14, 2026 01:34AM
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