..you can't unring the bell...

You have not known what you are, you have slumber'd upon yourself
all your life,
Your eyelids have been the same as closed most of the time,
What you have done returns already in mockeries,
(Your thrift, knowledge, prayers, if they do not return in
mockeries, what is their return?)

The mockeries are not you,
Underneath them and within them I see you lurk,
I pursue you where none else has pursued you,

from To You by Walt Whitman




It’s funny….
We assume that all the experiences are our own. That we’re unique, and they’re unique to us. But every thought we’ve ever had, everything we’ve ever said, every time we’ve surprised ourselves with a new experience or idea, every memory we’ve made. Every story we’ve heard, or told, or been part of…it’s already happened before. Somewhere, and somehow, and sometime, someone has shared our experience, without us even knowing.

Yes man
Danny Wallace





He was one of these people whose flaws remained consistent whoever he was with.
He’d had friends who’d made good second marriages, and they always talked about the relief they’d felt when they realized that the first had gone wrong because of the dynamic, rather than any inherent failing in them. But as several women, women who didn’t really resemble each other in any way, had all complained of the same things, he had to accept that dynamics had nothing to do with anything. It was all him. At the beginning, something – infatuation, hope, whatever – helped disguise his real shape. But then the tide went out, and all was revealed, and it was ugly, dark and jagged and unpleasant.


Juliet, Naked
Nick Hornby