Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into his father’s heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone? …Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven, a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. - Thomas Wolfe, "Look Homeward, Angel"
"The grisly parade of the spectre years trooped through his brain. Suddenly, he saw that his life had been channelled by a series of accidents: a mad Rebel singing of Armageddon, the sound of a bugle on the road, the mule-hoofs of the army, the silly white face of an angel in a dusty shop, a slut's pert wiggle of her hams as she passed by." --Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward, Angel
And beauty swells like a wild song in our heart, beauty bursting like a great grape in our throat, beauty aching, rending, wordless and unutterable, beauty in us, all around us, never to be captured – and we know that we are dying. ~ Thomas Wolfe
"Look Homeward, Angel" - I was about to give up after a 100 pages when this novel finally captured my heart, and it has never left me since. My admiration for it led me to buy "You can't go home again" the first week after moving to a new continent, but I have never had the courage to actually read it - and I probably won't until I return home...I guess I am desperate to prove Thomas Wolfe wrong...