#long

When i write, i'm capable of having a girl of my dreams. She may not be perfect, but she's mine. And i'm her role model for God. ↗

— Ariel Seraphino

#girl-of-my-dreams #god #relationships #writing #dreams

This is death. I don't want it to tarry awhile so I can write a monograph. I want it to go away for seventy or eighty years. ↗

— Don DeLillo

#long-life #monograph #time #death

I'm just saying --' He pointed the way that Han appeared to be favoring. '--this doesn't feel right' 'Yeah, well, we're on a Star Destroyer being chased by the living dead. NONE of this feels right ↗

— Joe Schreiber

#han-solo #star-wars #stormtroopers #trig-longo #zombie-stormtroopers

Through our maps, we willingly become a part of their boundaries. If our home is included, we feel pride, perhaps familiarity, but always a sense that this is ours. If it is not, we accept our roles as outsiders, though we may be of the same mind and culture. In this way, maps can be dangerous and powerful tools. ↗

— Debbie Lee Wesselmann

#home #inspirational #maps #home

He was in my hair, my eyes, my fingers, my heart. I day-dreamed about what he was doing, thinking, seeing, smelling, feeling. I could not eat for thoughts of him. ↗

— Lisa See

#love #dreams

A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur, and dreaming is nursed in darkness. ↗

— Jean Genet

#darkness #dream #dreaming #grandeur #long

But she had dreamed of being his for too long. He had quite ruined her for a marriage of convenience. She wanted everything from him: his mind, his body, his name and, most of all, his heart. ↗

— Sarah MacLean

#love #dreams

Laine slowly rolled out of bed. The queen size was one of the few new things in the house. But now, even the new bed felt tainted. It was an inner-spring monument to lies, a petri dish of mendacity she had shared with her faithless husband, and shared now with creeping dreams that flew from the light but left harsh scratches and diseased black feathers. Laine promised herself that, as soon as, she could, she would rid herself of this house, this bed, her clothes, her jewelry - everything but the flesh she lived in. She would scrub herself clean and flee to start a new life whose first and only commandment would be: Never let thyself be lied to again. ↗

— Stephen M. Irwin

#betrayal #emotions #escaping #longing #loss

In fact her maturity and blood kinship converted her passion to fever, so it was more affliction than affection. It literally knocked her down at night, and raised her up in the morning, for when she dragged herself off to bed, having spent another day without his presence, her heart beat like a gloved fist against her ribs. And in the morning, long before she was fully awake, she felt a longing so bitter and tight it yanked her out of a sleep swept clean of dreams. ↗

— Toni Morrison

#longing #dreams

Oh! my dearest love, why are our pleasures so short and so interrupted? How long is this to last? Know you, my best Mary, that I feel myself, in your absence, almost degraded to the level of the vulgar and impure. I feel their vacant, stiff eyeballs fixed upon me, until I seem to have been infected with their loathsome meaning--to inhale a sickness that subdues me to languor. Oh! those redeeming eyes of Mary, that they might beam upon me before I sleep! Praise my forbearance--oh! beloved one--that I do not rashly fly to you, and at least secure a moment's bliss. Wherefore should I delay; do you not long to meet me? All that is exalted and buoyant in my nature urges me towards you, reproaches me with the cold delay, laughs at all fear and spurns to dream of prudence. Why am I not with you? ↗

— Michael Kelahan

#long-distance-love #love-letters #romance #dreams