#lil

Once, my mother told a whole host of angels that she’d rather die than go back to a man she didn’t love. ↗

— Brenna Yovanoff

#lilith #love #love

I felt his other hand sear hot against my cheek. He bent his head, and in a voice that Jack couldn’t hear, said, “When you came down the stairs, and fell into me, that was the moment.” Then his lips pressed against mine. ↗

— Sarah Alderson

#lila #love #love

Although, fanciful's origin circa 1627 made me still love the word, even if I'd ruined its applicability to my connection with Snarl. (I mean DASH!) Like, I could totally see Mrs. Mary Poppencock returning home to her cobblestone hut with the thatched roof in Thamesburyshire, Jolly Olde England, and saying to her husband, "Good sir Bruce, would it not be wonderful to have a roof that doesn't leak when it rains on our green shires, and stuff?" And Sir Bruce Poppencock would have been like, "I say, missus, you're very fanciful with your ideas today." To which Mrs. P. responded, "Why, Master P., you've made up a word! What year is it? I do believe it's circa 1627! Let's carve the year--we think--on a stone so no one forgets. Fanciful! Dear man, you are a genius. I'm so glad my father forced me to marry you and allow you to impregnate me every year. ↗

— Rachel Cohn

#humor #lily #humor

I've always been able to see you," I say. "It's a rather lovely view. ↗

— Jodi Picoult

#oliver #love

And so you see it is love- not scorn,not malice; only love- that makes me harm her, in the end. ↗

— Sarah Waters

#love

Because I think that's what love is- everything but children's love, anyway - loving the wounds we give each other, and that we can't help giving each other; you can't stay alive if you don't hurt people. ↗

— J.R. Salamanca

#love

As I look back on the time I've spent with him, loving him, learning him, I'm grateful for the moments. Because in the end, it's the moments that make life worth living... ↗

— Marie Hall

#inspirational-life #liliana-cosgrove #marie-hall #moments-series #inspirational

I thought about you all the time. I used to pray that you’d live to be a hundred years old. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that you were ashamed of me. ↗

— Khaled Hosseini

#daughter #jalil #men #sad #sorrow

Different time, different place,” I said. “Things can change. People can change. ↗

— Richelle Mead

#sydney-sage #the-golden-lily #change

O, that this too too solid flesh would melt Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, Seem to me all the uses of this world! Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely. That it should come to this! But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: So excellent a king; that was, to this, Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, As if increase of appetite had grown By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-- Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!-- A little month, or ere those shoes were old With which she follow'd my poor father's body, Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she-- O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle, My father's brother, but no more like my father Than I to Hercules: within a month: Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, She married. O, most wicked speed, to post With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! It is not nor it cannot come to good: But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue. ↗

— William Shakespeare

#death #grief #soliloquy #anger