#me

Love is alcohol. ↗

— Katherine Applegate

#beach-blondes #drinking #katherine-applegate #love #summer

How much more of the mosque, of prayer and fasting? Better go drunk and begging round the taverns. Khayyam, drink wine, for soon this clay of yours Will make a cup, bowl, one day a jar. When once you hear the roses are in bloom, Then is the time, my love, to pour the wine; Houris and palaces and Heaven and Hell- These are but fairy-tales, forget them all. ↗

— Omar Khayyám

#time #wine #love

And yet, even as she spoke, she knew that she did not wish to come back. not to stay, not to live. She loved the little yellow cottage more than she loved any place on earth. but she was through with it except in her memories. ↗

— Maud Hart Lovelace

#leaving #memories #love

I remember his eyes. They are just like mine. Every time I look in the mirror I see him. I try not to look at my self too much. ↗

— Ida Løkås

#eyes #fathers #loss #love #memories

michelle would get picked up and bang someone anonymous stud in the bathroom, and i would sip my drink wishing i could go home and curl up with a book. i sigh. thats ok. she was my vicarious slutty friend. and for that i loved her ↗

— Marata Eros

#home

The real home of man is not his house but the road. Life itself is a travel that has to be done by foot. ↗

— Bruce Chatwin

#home

You can never replace someone you love like that. Eventually the memories won’t be so hard on you. With time, the memories will make you smile and you will be grateful for having them. ↗

— N.M. Facile

#memory #love

[U]ltimately there is no love as loyal as that of a morally commited woman. ↗

— Anonymous

#love #loyalty #women #love

You’re a mess, I confess, I despise you in the best kind of way. ↗

— Coco J. Ginger

#hate #jamie-weise #love #love-hate-relationship #mess

The house became full of love. Aureliano expressed it in poetry that had no beginning and no end. He would write it on the harsh pieces of parchment that Melquiades gave him, on the bathroom walls, on the skin of his arms, and in all of it Remedios would appear transfigured: Remedios in the soporific air of two in the afternoon, Remedios in the soft breath of the roses, Remedios in the water-clock secrets of the moths, Remedios in the steaming morning bread, Remedios everywhere and Remedios forever. ↗

— Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez

#love #remedios #love