#hi

The little prince went away, to look again at the roses. "You are not at all like my rose," he said. "As yet, you are nothing. No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. "You're like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world. ↗

— Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

#children-s-books #love #love

Each time he came he would twist my defenceless body into a different pose, as if I were his very own doll ↗

— Rachel Abbott

#abusive-relationships #relationship

You know that feeling you get when you pass by a cop doing like 20 over, when your stomach hits the floor and you get weak in the knees and it seams like time just stops for a min? Thats how i feel every time i see her. I love it. ↗

— Andrew Vyvyan

#love #relationship #love

I've read hundreds of books about China over the decades. I know the Chinese. I've made a lot of money with the Chinese. I understand the Chinese mind. ↗

— Donald Trump

#china #chinese #donald-trump #trump #art

When I investigate and when I discover that the forces of the heavens and the planets are within ourselves, then truly I seem to be living among the gods. ↗

— Leon Battista Alberti

#among #discover #forces #gods #heavens

it's really make sense when it's does not make sense ↗

— sarajevo_sara

#life-and-living #thinking-reason #attitude

Sophie dear,' I said. 'Are you in love with him - with this spider-man?' 'Oh, don't call him that - please - we can't any of us help being what we are. His name's Gordon. He's kind to me, David. He's fond of me. You've got to have as little as I have to know how much that means. You've never known loneliness. You can't understand the awful emptiness that's waiting all round us here. I'd have given him babies gladly, if I could. ... I - oh, why do they do that to us? Why didn't they kill me? It would have been kinder than this...' She sat without a sound. The tears squeezed out from under the closed lids and ran down her face. I took her hand between my own. I remembered watching. The man with his arm linked in the woman's, the small figure on top of the pack-horse waving back to me as they disappeared into the trees. Myself desolate, a kiss still damp on my cheek, a lock tied with a yellow ribbon in my hand. I looked at her now, and my heart ached. ↗

— John Wyndham

#love

...who would have known the dark eyes staring into mine would become our children's eyes...? ↗

— John Geddes

#dark-eyes #eyes #love #poetry #love

Bloom of adulthood. Try a whiff of that. On your back in the dark you remember. Ah you remember. Cloudless May day. She joins you in the little summerhouse. Entirely of logs. Both larch and fir. Six feet across. Eight from floor to vertex. Area twenty-four square feet to the furthest decimal. Two small multicoloured lights vis-a-vis. Small stained diamond panes. Under each a ledge. There on summer Sundays after his midday meal your father loved to retreat with Punch and a cushion. The waist of his trousers unbuttoned he sat on the one ledge and turned the pages. You on the other your feet dangling. When he chuckled you tried to chuckle too. When his chuckle died yours too. That you should try to imitate his chuckle pleased and amused him greatly and sometimes he would chuckle for no other reason than to hear you try to chuckle too. Sometimes you turn your head and look out through a rose-red pane. You press your little nose against the pane and all without is rosy. The years have flown and there at the same place as then you sit in the bloom of adulthood bathed in rainbow light gazing before you. She is late. ↗

— Samuel Beckett

#childhood #relentlessness #love

LOOK AT MY BLOOD FLOWERS, BECAUSE I WRITE WITH A SERENE SHARP BLADE THAT SOOTHES. AS MUCH AS CUTS INTO THE DEEPEST PARTS OF MY SOUL. ↗

— Basith

#philosophy-of-life #life