Victoria Sobolev Quotes
“There are people who don’t know how to be happy. When fate throws expensive gifts their way, they look for the catch. Distrustful, they steer clear. Yet knowing how to accept such gifts with gratitude is more important than anything our parents and teachers instil in us as children. No one is going to tell you why you’re here, what your purpose is, what you’re searching for, and what to do with what you find.”
“Why did you decide to become an architect?’
‘What could be more wonderful than designing and building houses? Except for giving birth, perhaps, but I can’t do that, unfortunately!’
It is a joke and we both laugh, but his words leave a magical imprint on my heart. Too bad that this imprint completely ignored my overly practical brain.”
“My ice-cream is melting just as quickly as Danny’s and is dripping down my chin, across my wrist, and onto my thigh. I laugh, throwing my head back and covering my eyes so as not to be blinded by happiness, and it is in this moment of weightlessness that I am suddenly aware of the lightest touch on my skin, like the wings of a butterfly. It flutters against my thigh then lingers on my wrist, but before its delicate wings reach my face, I force my eyes open and see only fragments: pink lips, a tanned cheek, the features and lines of a face silhouetted against the bright sunlight. My nostrils draw in his scent for the very first time and it is so strong that he is not just next to me but intimately close. His smell instantly takes me prisoner, overpowering me to such an extent that I have forgotten who and where I am.
I know that, moments before, Alex was using his lips and tongue to clean the melted ice-cream off my thigh and wrist and inadvertently treating me to the most ecstatic experience of my life. My body and mind are adrift in a sea of bliss, the sounds of the park suddenly fade away, and the world and everyone in it cease to exist. All I can see is a blindingly bright light and all I can feel are a man’s moist lips touching mine. Alex’s hot, passionate mouth is kissing me greedily as if there is finally enough air; as if he had been suffocating, but now he can breathe.
I know that a kiss like this is neither flirting nor dating and can sense with every fibre of my being that it was a sudden impulse, unplanned and impetuous.
When Alex comes to his senses and realises what he has done, I am already staring meaningfully into his eyes. He pulls away slowly and starts to apologise, but I assure him there is no need, just not to do it again. He replies that he won’t, but his eyes say otherwise: he looks as overwhelmed as I feel.”
“Well, and the fact that I find it unbelievably difficult to control my hormones when Alex is next to me; it’s like I’m being pulled in. The pull is not just strong, it is overwhelmingly powerful and so unbearable that it feels as if the decision has already been made – the sooner the better – and to hell with pride and good manners; to hell with all of it.”
“The thought flits through my mind that dozens of women have probably been here before me, but it is countered by another: ‘I drink from the same glasses as everyone else when I’m in a restaurant and eat from the same plates using the same forks, so what the hell is the difference?’ Especially as restaurants are very careful about cleanliness and these snow-white and perfectly ironed sheets exude the kind of freshness that even newborn babies would envy.”
One cold February day, I arrive, Alex opens the door, and we immediately embrace without saying a word, not even hello – rules are not for us, everything we do is against the rules. Then, as always, I get lost in his eyes. Even when they’re sad, they are still inexpressibly beautiful, deep, warm, loving. His eyes are what I love the most... and his hands... his lips... his hair... I have no idea what I love the most!”
A hot damp touch on my stomach, another kiss. Then it’s my shoulder, my neck. I feel myself soaring upwards, literally, this time, because Alex is lifting me up. He does this often; he loves carrying me in his arms. It is at moments like these that he probably feels I belong to him and him alone.”
I noticed a long time ago that my mouth, my lips, and anything I may do with them excites him. I know that when we have coffee and croissants together, I can’t lick my lips otherwise Alex will drag me straight to bed, no matter when the last time was. But more important than anything is that I want him – constantly, desperately – and I cannot bear the time we are apart.”
“You know, there are things that can be done easily and simply and there are things that are very difficult. When it comes to the important stuff, I always seem to take the most difficult path, for some reason. You can buy the most amazing ring and get down on one knee or write a message in the sky or go up in a hot air balloon, but all of those options are for people who do everything on time, and that’s not me. I made my choice a long time ago... But how can I tell this girl that I want to live a full and happy life and that that’s only possible with her when she’s not available? Somebody beat me to it, but it’s so much more than that. How can I tell her that I’ll never hurt her, never cause her pain? That I’ll dedicate my life to protecting her from all the bad, from every possible harm and danger? That I want to have lots of babies, but only if she is their mother? That I can’t imagine my life without her? How can I tell her all this if she has already given herself to someone else?”
“But there is also my brain and it is gently, unobtrusively asking me questions that don’t require answers because the answers are already there: it won’t last; he’s just TOO perfect for me, TOO handsome, TOO sexy; I’m not the one for him, if such a person exists at all. Sooner or later it will come to an end because the feelings disappear, even the strongest ones. They are inexorably broken down by life’s worries and problems and the fears that come with them. But with Alex it will most likely happen sooner rather than later – he is just TOO seductive and virtually all women without exception look at him TOO greedily. When it’s all over, he’ll simply step over us and move on and I... I’ll be abandoned like an empty cigarette packet on a dirty pavement. I have no desire to fade away in the scorching sun, covered in dust and dripping wet with dirty rainwater.”
“Intelligent, artistic, hard-working, well-mannered, educated, decent... good! Strong! Masculine! What else... Oh yes! Good-looking, sexy, experienced, exceptionally knowledgeable in bed, always fashionable, stylish, fragrant, flawless, faultless, I’m-just-perfect Alex!
And me? I’m just like everyone else: a cocktail of virtues and shortcomings served with a couple of flaws. And that’s why this superhuman is starting to infuriate me. I desperately want to hurt his feelings or at least offend him in some way. This seems like an unhealthy reaction at first glance but is actually completely healthy, because next to people like him – if others like him even exist – you feel more awkward, more flawed, more stupid, and more subhuman than ever.”
“Sometimes, we supposedly grown-up people are as blind as newborn kittens. Our vision is inevitably obscured by someone else’s negative experience – an unwanted opinion, the moralising of both those close to us and indifferent strangers – and we are prevented from seeing the shortest and straightest road to the unlimited happiness put aside for us by a higher power.”
“There are people who don’t know how to be happy. When fate throws expensive gifts their way, they look for the catch. Distrustful, they steer clear. Yet knowing how to accept such gifts with gratitude is more important than anything our parents and teachers instil in us as children. No one is going to tell you why you’re here, what your purpose is, what you’re searching for, and what to do with what you find.””