#lover

I imagined/felt their palms sweating, their sweat mingling, mutually fertilized, and dripping to the ground, where it gave birth to a scolopendra, the forked ends of its tail bedecked with the sparkle of drying tears. Their sweat would mingle again at night; the sweat from their bellies would run down into their loins, fill their belly buttons, and glimmer in the moonlight like the tears drying on the scolopendra's tail. ↗

— Elizaveta Mikhailichenko

#love #lovers #passion #imagination

Beware of books. They are more than innocent assemblages of paper and ink and string and glue. If they are any good, they have the spirit of the author within. Authors are rogues and ruffians and easy lays. They are gluttons for sweets and savories. They devour life and always want more. They have sap, spirit, sex. Books are panderers. The Jews are not wrong to worship books. A real book has pheromones and sprouts grass through its cover. ↗

— Erica Jong

#reading #life

Once you choose to cloth the reflection of your brain, the nakedness of truth seems to fade. That's why I find it hard to read your mind through your eyes. ↗

— Uma Maheswari Anandane

#love #love-hurts #lovers #lovers-quarrels #sad-but-true

though it's a shame, what's been done to people these last hundred years: men turned into nothing but labor-insects, and all their manhood taken away, and all their real life. i'd wipe the machines off the face of the earth again, and end the industrial epoch absolutely, like a black mistake. but since i can't, an' nobody can, i'd better hold my peace, an' try an' life my own life: if i've got one to live, which i rather doubt. ↗

— D.H. Lawrence

#life

But what can be done, the one who loves must share the fate of the one he loves. ↗

— Mikhail Bulgakov

#love #lovers #love

Si alguien me hubiera advetido de lo que dolía el amor, hubiera evitado enamorarme de ella. Pero, ¿a quién quería engañar? Era mentira. La habría amado igual. ↗

— Alessandra Neymar

#lovers #love

He says he’s lonely, horribly lonely because of this love he feels for her. She says she’s lonely too. She doesn’t say why. ↗

— Marguerite Duras

#love #marguerite-duras #the-lover #love

No people find each other more absurd than lovers ↗

— C.S. Lewis

#love #lover #people #relationships #love

Lying in bed, half-covered by the blankets, I would drowsily ask why he had come to my door that night long ago. It had become a ritual for us, as it does for all lovers: where, when, why? remember...I understand even old people rehearse their private religion of how they first loved, most guarded of secrets. And he would answer, sleep blurring his words, "Because I had to." The question and the answer were always the same. Why? Because I had to. ↗

— Margaret George

#lovers-love-story #secrets #love

But there was something about you that made me think of sparks and motion. ↗

— David Levithan

#love #lover-s-dictionary #motion #sparks #love