#jan

How can the word love, the word life, even fit in the mouth? ↗

— Jandy Nelson

#jandy-nelson #life #love #the-sky-is-everywhere #life

The thing is, Iris, I've never liked the idea of compromise. In films and in stories people who love each other — really love each other — make horrendous sacrifices. They give kidneys they move across the world they die. Or become the undead because you know I like that sort of book. Basically the heroine's lover calls and she answers. Which is stupid. You know why ” Iris shook her head. “Because he's always fucking calling. ↗

— Nicole Peeler

#jane-true #love #love

To a good man, yes, one who knows her in all her moods, who can laugh at her follies and rejoice in her virtues; who will not allow her to give in to her worst instincts; one who knows her, and who, knowing her, will still love her, and love her as she should be loved. ↗

— Amanda Grange

#love

...the more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love. ↗

— Jane Austen

#marianne-dashwood #sense-and-sensibility #love

Then you must tell them that love isn't something like a grindstone that's the same thing everywhere and do the same thing to everything it touches. Love is like the sea. It is a moving thing, but still and all, it takes its shape from the shore it meets, and its different with every shore." (written properly and not in slang) ↗

— Zora Neale Hurston

#janie #pheoby #to #wise #words

I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you - especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapped; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you - you'd forget me. ↗

— Charlotte Brontë

#jane-eyre #love #love

I felt my mouth go dry, my throat constrict. What possible interpretation could Peter place on those words, other than that they were about him? - that the entire song was about him? ↗

— Jennifer Paynter

#jane-austen #love #mary-bennet #mortification #peter-bushel

To be together is for us to be at once free as in solitude, as gay as in company. We talk, I believe, all day long: to talk to each other is but more animated and an audible thinking. All my confidence is bestowed on him, all his confidence is devoted to me; we are precisely suited in character - perfect concord is the result. ↗

— Charlotte Brontë

#jane #jane-eyre #quotes-i-love #love

But this night is not through. We’ve made love. And now, to the bed, where the f*cking will commence. ↗

— Charlotte Featherstone

#jane #matthew #love

This made my father laugh. 'Mary made a cake, did she? Well, well. Better that than she should make a cake for herself, I suppose.' Peter then burst out: 'Why must you always be making a game of Mary? 'Tis not fair; 'tis not sporting. ↗

— Jennifer Paynter

#jane-austen #jennifer-paynter #love #loyalty #mary-bennet