#confess

You..." just you always you. My Russian cunt my enemy my comrade my prisoner my gaoler and my life. Words unthinking. "Love...you. ↗

— Marquesate

#love #life

To fall in love with God is the greatest romance; to seek him the greatest adventure; to find him, the greatest human achievement. ↗

— Augustine of Hippo

#confessions #love #romance #love

Pero si la elección que tengo que tomar, se reduce a elegir entre tú o yo, te escojo a ti. Siempre te he escogido. ↗

— Becca Fitzpatrick

#love #spanish #love

—And you completely blow me away and rip my world up and everything else, and then you go back to ignoring me.” “I blew you away?” I squeak out before I can stop myself. He stares at me steadily. “You blew everything away. ↗

— Lauren Oliver

#love-story #romance #love

She didn't understand, I hope to God she never understands what I do, what I am. To be dammed by the darkness that lives inside me. To be saved by her love. No more half-truths. No more omissions. ↗

— Linnea Sinclair

#love #truth #love

It is a dreadful thing to wait and watch for the approach of death; to know that hope is gone, and recovery impossible; and to sit and count the dreary hours through long, long, nights - such nights as only watchers by the bed of sickness know. It chills the blood to hear the dearest secrets of the heart, the pent-up, hidden secrets of many years, poured forth by the unconscious helpless being before you; and to think how little the reserve, and cunning of a whole life will avail, when fever and delirium tear off the mask at last. Strange tales have been told in the wanderings of dying men; tales so full of guilt and crime, that those who stood by the sick person's couch have fled in horror and affright, lest they should be scared to madness by what they heard and saw; and many a wretch has died alone, raving of deeds, the very name of which, has driven the boldest man away. ("The Drunkard's Death") ↗

— Charles Dickens

#deathbed-confession #dying #dying-last-words #death

But I'm not a saint yet. I'm an alcoholic. I'm a drug addict. I'm homosexual. I'm a genius. ↗

— Truman Capote

#alcoholism #confession #music

This is a test, isn't it? It's like choosing out of three caskets in a fairy tale. Everyone knows the rules. You never choose the gold shiny one. Or even the quite impressive silver one. What you're supposed to do is choose the dull little lead one, and then there's a flash of light and it turns into a mountain of jewels ↗

— Sophie Kinsella

#fairies

Everyone has two memories. The one you can tell and the one that is stuck to the underside of that, the dark, tarry smear of what happened. ↗

— Amy Bloom

#memory #nostalgia #nostalgia

In an age when the fashion is to be in love with yourself, confessing to be in love with somebody else is an admission of unfaithfulness to one's beloved. ↗

— Russell Baker

#age #beloved #confessing #else #fashion