#henry

Look at this one.” I picked up a small painting of a man with dark hair and a short, dark beard. He wore a loose shirt, cobalt blue, unbuttoned at the top, showing a prominent, knobby collarbone. He looked…complicated and hungry. She’d captured him focused intensely on a book, his face pressed against a wall like he was resting. Or waiting. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #breakups #college #creativity #dating

Henry," said Charlotte, who appeared to have recovered from her shock, "if you set yourself on fire deliberately, I will institute divorce proceedings. Now sit down and eat your supper. And say hello to our guest. ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#clockwork #fire #henry #divorce

The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark ↗

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

#mourning

He smiled and squinted at me again, tilting his head up and to the right as he stared. “Maybe what I’m attracted to in you is more than your looks and your brain and your humor.” He leaned closer like he had a secret. “It could be your soul,” he whispered. I pushed his cheek until he was squinting at the door to the kitchen instead. “Is this when you tell me I’m your soul mate, O’Neill? ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #attraction #dating #glass-girl #henry-whitmire

My mom told me once that Wyatt loved her the way a boy will love his mother, but I loved her the way an artist loves another. Jo taught me what that meant. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#artist #creativity #dating #death #family

But with her eyes closed, she began to whisper. “If you have someone to love, then love. If you have someone to forgive, then forgive. You think, when you’re seventeen, there’s time enough for that, but there’s not. There’s no time at all.” I squeezed her hand, trying to think of how to respond. But she took the burden from me and kept whispering. “You want to know why God gave us people to love? Because that’s the only way we can understand how he feels about us. Desperate and jealous. ↗

— Laura Anderson Kurk

#art #artist #dating #death #dying-words

I said to my mother, Henry VII is interesting. No he's not, my mother said. ↗

— Hilary Mantel

#historical-fiction #history #mother-and-daughter #historical-fiction

And then she said nothing else, for Henry put his arms around her and kissed her. Kissed her in such a way that she no longer felt plain, or conscious of her hair or the ink spot on her dress or anything but Henry, whom she had always loved. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks, and when he drew away, he touched her wet face wonderingly. "Really," he said. "You love me, too, Lottie? ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#henry-branwell #love

Men of Virginia, countrymen of Washington, of Patrick Henry, of Jefferson, and of Madison, will ye be true to your constitutional faith? ↗

— Caleb Cushing

#constitutional #countrymen #faith #henry #jefferson

The only hero known to my childhood was Henry Clay. ↗

— Rebecca Harding Davis

#clay #henry #hero #known #only