#holding

You are, however, surprisingly light of touch.” “Pardon?” “The way you’re holding my hand. I always thought you’d be more of a mauler. Like a diseased wolf chewing the knuckles off me fist.” “That’s very nice.” “Not really.” “I was being sarcastic.” “Oh. I see. Where are we? ↗

— G.A. Aiken

#humor #love

We kissed each other until we were too tired to keep going. I could still feel him holding back. It was my penance for what I had done to him. All I could do was hope the walls would fall and that I could have all of him again, but I was always leaving and he was tired of watching me walk away. We both knew that I couldn’t stay and that he couldn’t come with me, but still, we couldn’t let go. ↗

— Kimberly Novosel

#kiss #let-go #love #relationships #walk-away

Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lost ↗

— Kevin Arnold

#love #memory #love

Sometimes you win or sometimes you lose. I don't wanna lose you, Don't even own you. I just wanna stay right here, Until never dawns ↗

— Corinne Bailey Rae

#love #love

Miss Morstan and I stood together, and her hand was in mine. A wondrous subtle thing is love, for here were we two, who had never seen each other until that day, between whom no word or even look of affection had ever passed, and yet now in an hour of trouble our hands instinctively sought for each other. I have marveled at it since, but at the time it seemed the most natural thing that I would go out to her so, and, as she has often told me, there was in her also the instinct to turn to me for comfort and protection. So we stood hand in hand like two children, and there was peace in our hearts for all the dark things that surrounded us. ↗

— Arthur Conan Doyle

#comfort #dark-things #holding-hands #instinct #love