#fr

Everything that happens to you matters to me. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#clary-fray #jace #love #teens #love

I wanted what most people wanted—love, companionship. I wanted someone to touch. I wanted someone to touch me back. I wanted someone to laugh with, someone who would laugh with me, laugh at me. I wanted someone who looked and sawme . Not my power, not my position. I wanted someone to say my name. To call out, “Merit,” when it was time to go, or when we arrived. Someone who wanted to say to someone else, with pride, “I’m here with her. With Merit.” I wanted all those things. Indivisibly. But I didn’t want them from Morgan. ↗

— Chloe Neill

#friday #merit #night #love

I was trying to make you jealous!" Simon screamed, right back. His hands were fisted at his sides. "You're so stupid, Clary. You're so stupid, can't you see anything?" She stared at him in bewilderment. What on earth did he mean? "Trying to make me jealous? Why would you try to do that?" She saw immediately that this was the worst thing she could have asked him. "Because," he said, so bitterly that it shocked her, "I've been in love with you for ten years, so I thought it seemed like the time to find out whether you felt the same about me. Which, I guess you don't. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#city-of-bones #clary-fray #declarations-of-love #love #paranormal

I was afraid of being rejected, yes. I was also afraid of being accepted for the wrong reasons. ↗

— Erich Segal

#afraid #reason #reject #love

And would it have been worth it, after all, Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets, After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor - And this, and so much more? - ↗

— T.S. Eliot

#prufrock #love

I love everything that is old; old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wines. ↗

— Oliver Goldsmith

#friends #wine #love

Being soaked alone is cold. Being soaked with your best friend is an adventure. ↗

— Emily Wing Smith

#best-friend #cold #rain #soak #love

I love my country, not my government. ↗

— Jesse Ventura

#bill-of-rights #constitution #despotism #freedom #government

I love the night passionately. I love it as I love my country, or my mistress, with an instinctive, deep, and unshakeable love. I love it with all my senses: I love to see it, I love to breathe it in, I love to open my ears to its silence, I love my whole body to be caressed by its blackness. Skylarks sing in the sunshine, the blue sky, the warm air, in the fresh morning light. The owl flies by night, a dark shadow passing through the darkness; he hoots his sinister, quivering hoot, as though he delights in the intoxicating black immensity of space. ↗

— Guy de Maupassant

#constantine #from #helen #paris #tales

In future, Clarissa,” he said, “it might be wise to mention that you already have a man in your bed, to avoid such tedious situations.” “You invited him into bed?” Simon demanded, looking shaken. “Ridiculous, isn't it?” said Jace. “We would never have all fit.” “I didn't invite him into bed,” Clary snapped. “We were just kissing.” “Just kissing?” Jace's tone mocked her with its false hurt. “How swiftly you dismiss our love. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#jace #simon-lewis #love