#jar

His desperation and misery swept her up like a storm capturing the sea. She turned her mind to even these feelings, because they were his, like his terrified rage in the lift when they had first met, being wrapped in his arms in the cold well, being dazzled by his wonder at the woods and her home and her. Like being a child, awareness of him the morning chorus that woke her and the lullaby that sent her to sleep, his thoughts always her first and last song. I love you, Kami told him, and cut. ↗

— Sarah Rees Brennan

#kami-glass #love

Where have you been?" I asked weakly. A few minutes ago I would have rather died than questioned him. Let him know I care. But I'm too sick to be strong, kick ass Rayne at the moment. "Vegas" he says. I raise an eyebrows. "Uh, okay. Win anything?" I can't believe he was off gambling as I lay dying. I mean, I know poker is hot and all, but couldn't he have waited a couple of days for that straight flush? "I got what I went for, if that's what you mean." "What, a lap dance?" He chuckes. "Even sick, you're still funny, Rayne. ↗

— Mari Mancusi

#dying #jareth #rayne #vegas #funny

Dark Jar Tin Zoo’s face is sallow, his cheeks sunk in, and he looks like Edvard Munch’s “The Scream,” only less colorful. 
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#dark-jar-tin-zoo #edvard-munch #funny #humor #sallow

Janganlah tuan-tuan percaya kalau sejarah itu dikatakan satu sahaja, jangan-jangan ada lain perkara di sebaliknya (Ketupat Cinta Musim Pertama) ↗

— Faisal Tehrani

#sejarah #cinta

Dammit, Dresden, if you want to know about me, wait for the autobiography like everyone else. ↗

— Jim Butcher

#humor #jared-kincaid #humor

The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#death #suicide #sylvia-plath #thought #death

To the person in the bell jar, blank and stopped as a dead baby, the world itself is a bad dream. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#ted-hughes #the-bell-jar #dreams

After joyfully working each morning, I would leave off around midday to challenge myself to a footrace. Speeding along the sunny paths of the Jardin du Luxembourg, ideas would breed like aphids in my head—for creative invention is easy and sublime when air cycles quickly through the lungs and the body is busy at noble tasks. ↗

— Roman Payne

#health #jardin-du-luxembourg #nobility #noble #paris

Listen to me. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what any of this means. But I know this much. It doesn’t matter. You’re not one of them. You never were. You’re not theirs. You’re mine. ↗

— Sarah Rees Brennan

#kami-glass #love #love

What’s complicated? I love you. You love me. It’s the simplest thing in the world. ↗

— Marie Coulson

#layla-jennings #love