Depression is like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch it where it hurts. It's always there, though.

Jeffrey Eugenides

Mots clés depression



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It was morning by the clock but deepest nighttime in his body.

Jeffrey Eugenides


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She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it.

Jeffrey Eugenides

Mots clés grief



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He remained heartbroken, which meant one of two things: either his love was pure and true and earthshakingly significant; or he was addicted to feeling forlorn, he liked being heartbroken.

Jeffrey Eugenides

Mots clés love heartbroken



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The lover`s discourse was of an extreme solitude. The solitude was extreme because it wasn`t physical. It was extreme because you felt it while in the company of the person you loved. It was extreme because it was in your head, the most solitary of places.

Jeffrey Eugenides

Mots clés love solitude



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It was as if, before she`d met him, her blood had circulated grayly around her body, and now ir was all oxygenated and red. She was petrified of becoming the half-alive person she`d been before.

Jeffrey Eugenides

Mots clés love



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It was possible to feel superior to other people and feel like a misfit at the same time.

Jeffrey Eugenides


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The most widely raised type of silkworm, the larva of the 'Bombyx mori', no longer exists anywhere in a natural state. As my encyclopedia poignantly puts it: 'The legs of the larvae have degenerated, and the adults no longer fly'.

Jeffrey Eugenides


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He left in a state of distraction and a winter coat.

Jeffrey Eugenides


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Dr. Philbosian smelled like an old couch, of hair oil and spilled soup, of unscheduled naps.

Jeffrey Eugenides


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