#love

You do not know your vampire nature. You are like an adult who, looking back on his childhood, realizes that he never appreciated it. You cannot, as a man, go back to the nursery and play with your toys, asking for the love and care to be showered on you again simply because now you know their worth. So it is with you and mortal nature. You've given it up. You no longer look "through a glass darkly." But you cannot pass back to the world of human warmth with your new eyes. ↗

— Anne Rice

#love

This was the Karachi now – barbed wires protecting consulates, the pretentious covering themselves with faces of those who were hiding behind those barbed wires. This was Karachi – gaudy and luxurious, with a façade of glamor, ignoring the truth underneath. But Sophie was no cynic, and still loved the city she had returned to. ‘You can’t hate what’s yours,’ she smiled to herself. ↗

— Umair Naeem

#karachi #love

He asked himself whether it could be that he was in love with her, and then hoped he was not; hoped it not so much for his own sake as for that of the amatory passion itself. If this was love, love had been overrated. ↗

— Henry James

#love #love

A man cannot own a woman, cousin. He can only... He can only love her. ↗

— Catherine Anderson

#love

How can I keep my soul in me, so that it doesn’t touch your soul? How can I raise it high enough, past you, to other things? I would like to shelter it, among remote lost objects, in some dark and silent place that doesn’t resonate when your depths resound. Yet everything that touches us, me and you, takes us together like a violin’s bow, which draws one voice out of two separate strings. Upon what instrument are we two spanned? And what musician holds us in his hand? Oh sweetest song. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#poetry #soul #love

Okay, how's this? I’ve been to Heaven and Hell. I’ve seen the whole world, but the only thing that makes me want to live is this: being inside you. I love you so much. You’re all I see. ↗

— Debra Anastasia

#bittersweet-seraphim #crushed-seraphim #debra-anastasia #devil #jack

Id Faciam What I hate I love. Ask the crucified hand that holds the nail that now is driven into itself, why. ↗

— Catullus

#love

As he stood up and gathered his attaché case and notebook, I reminded him that it had already been three weeks -- and counting. ↗

— Jevon L. Mack

#gay-romance #jevon-l-mack #love #relationships #romance

Touch" You are already asleep. I lower myself in next to you, my skin slightly numb with the restraint of habits, the patina of self, the black frost of outsideness, so that even unclothed it is a resilient chilly hardness, a superficially malleable, dead rubbery texture. You are a mound of bedclothes, where the cat in sleep braces its paws against your calf through the blankets, and kneads each paw in turn. Meanwhile and slowly I feel a is it my own warmth surfacing or the ferment of your whole body that in darkness beneath the cover is stealing bit by bit to break down that chill. You turn and hold me tightly, do you know who I am or am I your mother or the nearest human being to hold on to in a dreamed pogrom. What I, now loosened, sink into is an old big place, it is there already, for you are already there, and the cat got there before you, yet it is hard to locate. What is more, the place is not found but seeps from our touch in continuous creation, dark enclosing cocoon round ourselves alone, dark wide realm where we walk with everyone. ↗

— Thom Gunn

#sleeping #dreams

Juga jangan jadi kriminil dalam percintaan-yang menaklukan wanita ddengan gemerincing ringgit,kilau harta dan pangkat.Lelaki belakangan ini adalah juga kriminil,sedang perempuan yang tertaklukan hanya pelacur. ↗

— Pramoedya Ananta Toer

#harga-diri #love #pride #love