#l

You touched my flawed life so gently with love burning upward in dark steady flame burning me, burning me into healing. ↗

— Christy Brown

#life

You don't have to make it big, but you do have to make a big impact. ↗

— Jamie McCall

#legacy #life-path #motivational #recovery #sobriety

Mapenzi ni kiburudisho kikubwa kuliko vyote katika maisha. ↗

— Enock Maregesi

#love #refreshment #life

Never limit yourself to what you can't do, but to what you have the power to do with what you have. ↗

— Nadège Richards

#life #limitations #love #power #stand-out

But the Queen Arwen said: 'A gift I will give you. For I am the daughter of Elrond. I shall not go with him now when he departs to the Havens; for mine is the choice of Luthien, and as she so I have chosen, both the sweet and the bitter. But in my stead you shall go, Ring-bearer, when the time comes, and if you then desire it. If your hurts grieve you still and the memory or your burden is heavy, then you may pass into the West, until all your wounds and weariness are healed. But wear this now in memory of Elfstone and Evenstar with whom your life has been woven!' And she took a white gem like a star that lay upon her breast hanging upon a silver chain, and she set the chain around Frodo's neck. 'When the memory of the fear and the darkness troubles you,' she said, 'this will bring you aid. ↗

— J.R.R. Tolkien

#frodo #j-r-r-tolkien #queen-arwen #ring-bearer #the-lord-of-the-rings

Sometimes, you're the one who strikes it lucky. Sometimes, it's the other poor bastard who's left with the short straw, and you just have to shut up and get on with it. ↗

— M.L. Stedman

#life #lucky #moving-on #unlucky #life

It wasn't merely a walk; it was a journey. Behind every opened or closed door, there was a story to tell. ↗

— Dhari Buyabes

#life

Mothers give us life, love, and the heartfelt inclination to cry, 'I want my mommy,' no matter how old we get. ↗

— Richelle E. Goodrich

#mom #mommy #mother #mother-s-day #motherhood

Did I ever tell you that my mother and father started out as pen pals? They wrote these long, unabashedly affectionate love letters to one another, peppered with clichés and pie-in-the-sky proclamations of eternal devotion. Despite my father’s eventual dishonesty and unfaithfulness, I have to believe he meant every word he wrote at that time, and it was admittedly romantic, uncovering my parents’ yellowed letters, all soft, crumbling corners and black ink stains, one rainy afternoon. Because how can anyone scrawl lies, really, in their own handwriting, the evidence of your own betrayal right in front of you? I sat cross-legged on the floor, holding my breath as I unfolded each letter, fragile and expectant, like a little girl opening her presents on Christmas morning. I sat there and soaked up my parents’ love for each other, and then I wondered where all those feelings had escaped to. I wondered where love went when it was lost—did it travel far, across miles and oceans and forests and deserts, or did it linger somewhere nearby, just waiting for a chance to be summoned again? Wherever it was, I could only hope it had ended up settling somewhere quieter, safer. ↗

— Marla Miniano

#life #marla-miniano #reflections #life

Life doesn’t owe us anything. We only owe ourselves, to make the most of the life we are living, of the time we have left, and to live in gratitude. ↗

— Bronnie Ware

#life