Quotes by : Carolina De Robertis

She didn't mind the sacrifice. It seemed enough for a life, to give yourself to music the way nuns give....

What makes the self?Experiences. Acculturation.What else?I don't know.What's within you.She says, I don't....

It was still, at the root, the same dance: the same two bodies, connecting, gliding together, two aching....

As if music could be crushed like a condemned building or a stubborn anarchist. But it could not. It....

That people you don’t know are worth knowing, that they have something to teach you. That learning....

Words are incomplete and yet we need them. They are the cups that give our memories shape, and keep them....

That's what happens to melodies: they get lost in the air. Just like memories. And the body. Memories....

It was her grandfather who'd told her the tale of this particular violin, over and over, as if the telling....

No, I wanted to say, he didn't cut off her hands because he didn't have to, he had cut them off long....

In that moment, I realized that no matter what words I chose and no matter how much time I spent in telling,....