In my motherland people kneel before wells.

In my motherland people pray to the crosses of flying birds.

A bone is a key to my people.

Among my people, only the dead have human faces.

- Valzhyna Mort
I was growing inward incessantly; like an animal that hibernates during the wintertime, I could hear other peoples’ voices with my ears; my own voice, however, I could hear only in my throat. The loneliness and the solitude that lurked behind me were like a condensed, thick, eternal night, like one of those nights with a dense, persistent, sticky darkness which waits to pounce on unpopulated cities filled with lustful and vengeful dreams.
Sadegh Hedayat, The Blind Owl  (via dostevsky)
436 n quote on Agosto 10, 2017 / words.
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