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....

Books were already a familiar refuge, after all, and they still took me in without the slightest judgment.....

I wondered whether I had gone insane. If so, I thought, then this is what it feels like; I would never....

He does not look at the dancers, does not acknowledge her, sitting and staring. He is steeped in a private....

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

But language is malleable, and it is not always on the side of truth. This is something every writer....

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....

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