- I love everything until I have it. — Iain S. Thomas
- I’ll make love when the lust subsides. — Denitia and Sene
- They tried to bury us. They didn’t know we were seeds.
- You do not even think of your own past as quite real; you dress it up, you gild it or blacken it, censor it, tinker with it…fictionalize it, in a word, and put it away on a shelf—your book, your romanced autobiography. We are all in the flight from the real reality. — John Fowles, The French Lieutenant’s Woman
- I tell myself I am searching for something. But more and more, it feels like I am wandering, waiting for something to happen to me, something that will change everything, something that my whole life has been leading up to. — Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed
- Perhaps, I have never been loved. They have only loved versions of me I have allowed them to see. Nobody has really seen the absolute truth about me, nobody has seen me completely vulnerable. Nobody has loved me, as much as I love myself because I am the only one that’s seen the terrible and complicated versions of myself. — Maryolet Garcia
- I am sad and have a passion for unknown, distant places. I want to see the world. And I would love it, if I just had the chance to get away for a little while. But sadly, things aren’t that easy; desire won’t change a thing. — Alghanem, Abraham M.. A Dying Flower.
- I’m not sure which is worse: intense feeling, or the absence of it. — Margaret Atwood
- Please don’t, above all, plant me in your heart. I grow too quick. — Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets To Orpheus
- I love you—I do—but I am afraid of making that love too important. Because you’re always going to leave me. We can’t deny it. You’re always going to leave. — David Levithan, Every Day
dec 22 2014 ∞
may 1 2015 +
may 1 2015 +