#low

One more time? For the audience?" he says. His voice isn't angry. It's hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me. I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go. ↗

— Suzanne Collins

#dread #go #hollow #katniss #let

The earth laughs in flowers. ↗

— Ralph Waldo Emerson

#laughter #laugh

Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us. ↗

— Brian Jacques

#emotion #emotions #flowers #fruit #growing

Maybe it’s sad that these are now memories. And maybe it’s not sad. ↗

— Stephen Chbosky

#sad

He's a wallflower. You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand. ↗

— Stephen Chbosky

#being

Ash blinked. "Are you raiding the cellars now, Goodfellow?" "Me? Stealing?" Puck flashed a devious grin and popped another fruit into his mouth. "In the house of my ancient enemy? What gave you that idea?" He plucked another fruit and tossed it to me with a wink. ↗

— Julie Kagawa

#goodfellow #meghan-chase #puck #enemy

Ah, Evie,” she heard him say softly, “I must have a heart, after all…because right now it aches like the devil.” “Only your heart?” she asked ingenuously, making him laugh. He lowered her to the bed, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “Also a few other things,” he conceded. “And as my wife, it’s your duty to ease all my aches. ↗

— Lisa Kleypas

#evie #heart #jenner #sebastian #vincent

How can you have a war on terrorism when war itself is terrorism? ↗

— Howard Zinn

#propaganda #terrorism #war #terrorism

The lower you fall, the higher you'll fly. ↗

— Chuck Palahniuk

#fly #higher #lower #you

All around me darkness gathers, Fading is the sun that shone, We must speak of other matters, You can be me when I'm gone Flowers gathered in the morning, Afternoon they blossom on, Still are withered in the evening, You can be me when I'm gone. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#flowers