#kindle

There are two ways,” he told me, “and they are love and not love. I choose love. ↗

— Tony Jones

#love

L'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle ↗

— Cassandra Clare

#kindlehighlight

Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.— Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts! ↗

— William Shakespeare

#dreams

He was tall in the bed and I could see the silver through his eyelids. His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do—the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, “I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come.” Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places. This one was sent out by the breath of an accordion, the odd taste of champagne in summer, and the art of promise-keeping. He lay in my arms and rested. There was an itchy lung for a last cigarette and an immense, magnetic pull toward the basement, for the girl who was his daughter and was writing a book down there that he hoped to read one day. ↗

— Markus Zusak

#p- #art

had been equally obvious. The new aristocracy was made up for the most part of bureaucrats, scientists, technicians, trade-union organisers, publicity experts, sociologists, teachers, journalists and professional politicians. These people, whose origins ↗

— George Orwell

#equality

While mantling on the maiden's cheek Young roses kindled into thought. ↗

— Thomas Moore

#into #kindled #maiden #roses #thought