I felt like a thief with a bagful of stolen glances.
Interpretation
The quote expresses the exhilaration and excitement of secretly admiring someone.
This quote captures the feeling of secretly observing someone one is romantically interested in, likening it to the thrill of stealing. It conveys a sense of intimacy and yearning, portraying how such stolen moments can feel precious yet illicit.
In practice
This quote would fit perfectly in a romantic poem or letter expressing deep feelings.
What is remembered is not a deed in stone but a metaphor. Meta = above. Pheren = to carry. That which is carried above the literalness of life. A way of thinking that avoids the problems of gravity. The word won't let me down. The single word that can release me from all that unuttered weight.
Reading things that are relevant to the facts of your life is of limited value. The facts are, after all, only the facts, and the yearning passionate part of you will not be met there. That is why reading ourselves as a fiction as well as fact is so liberating. The wider we read the freer we become.
I have a list of titles that I leave at the [library] desk, because they are bound to be written some day, and it's best to be ahead of the queue.
Woolf wanted to say dangerous things in Orlando but she did not want to say them in the missionary position.
In that house, you will find my heart. You must break in, Henri, and get it back for me.' Was she mad? We had been talking figuratively. Her heart was in her body like mine. I tried to explain this to her, but she took my hand and put it against her chest. Feel for yourself.
History is a string full of knots, the best you can do is admire it, and maybe tie it up a bit more. History is a hammock for swinging and a game for playing.
Love is never lost. If not reciprocated, it will flow back and soften and purify the heart.
He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began.
Love is a smoke rais'd with the fume of sighs; being purg'd, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; being vex'd, a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears; what is it else? A madness most discreet, a choking gall, and a preserving sweet.
True love allows each person to follow his or her own path, aware that doing so can never drive them apart.
Whether you call my heart affectionate, or you call it womanish: I confess, that to my misfortune, it is soft.
Papa sat down at the table and poured his tea from the china tea set with pink flowers on the edges. I waited for him to ask Jaja and me to take a sip, as he always did. A love sip, he called it, because you shared the little things you loved with the people you love.
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