#nigh

Por que ele... Não será você? Por que não é como você? Ele vale menos, e, entretanto, gosto mais dele do que de você. ↗

— Fyodor Dostoyevsky

#love #white-nights #why #love

When I first saw you when we were destined, I promised myself that I wouldn't force you to love me, but I would find a way to win you. ↗

— Andrea Cremer

#calla #nightshade #ren #love

See I'm the reckless and wild one who saves him from being boring. It's why we're perfect for each other. We balance. - Madame Selena ↗

— Sherrilyn Kenyon

#seize-the-night #marriage

The Castle. He’d seen this expression far too many times during their marriage. The Castle was Bryony drawing up the gates and retreating deep into the inner keep. And he’d always hated it. Marriage meant that you shared your goddamn castle. You didn’t leave your poor knight of a husband circling the walls trying to find a way in. ↗

— Sherry Thomas

#knight #leo #sherry-thomas #marriage

A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals. ↗

— Jane Austen

#knightley #love #marriage #love

Muggle women wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear these," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers. "I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks. ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#muggles #nightgown #men

On moonlight nights the long, straight street and dirty white walls, nowhere darkened by the shadow of a tree, their peace untroubled by footsteps or a dog's bark, glimmered in the pale recession. The silent city was no more than an assemblage of huge, inert cubes, between which only the mute effigies of great men, carapaced in bronze, with their blank stone or metal faces, conjured up a sorry semblance of what the man had been. In lifeless squares and avenues these tawdry idols lorded it under the lowering sky; stolid monsters that might have personified the rule of immobility imposed on us, or, anyhow, its final aspect, that of a defunct city in which plague, stone, and darkness had effectively silenced every voice. ↗

— Albert Camus

#night #plague #men

We should live, my Lesbia, and love And value all the talk of stricter Old men at a single penny. Suns can set and rise again; For us, once our brief light has set, There's one unending night for sleeping. Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred, Then another thousand, then a second hundred, Then still another thousand, then a hundred; Then, when we've made many thousands, We'll muddle them so as not to know Or lest some villain overlook us Knowing the total of our kisses. (Translated by Guy Lee) ↗

— Catullus

#kisses #lesbia #love #night #romance

The wind blew through the window. The trousers swayed. Doubtless when they were on Mr. Craggs, the trousers looked splendid and went perfectly well together with his body. But like this, isolated in space, Mr. Cragg's trousers were nightmarish. The wind blew through the window. As they swayed, the trousers were alive. A shot, truncated, square creature consisting entirely of legs, belly and what went with them. And now it would get down and start walking among people and over people and grow and... ↗

— Yevgeny Zamyatin

#surrealistic #trousers #men

At that moment, Robert saw James Stewart turn to him. A jolt went through him as the steward nodded. Before anyone could begin speaking again, he headed out of the crowd towards Wallace, leaving his men looking on in surprise. ‘We have chosen to elect this man as our guardian.’ Robert’s voice was harsh as he gestured to Wallace. ‘But he is still just the son of a knight.’ ‘You dare to challenge his election?’ demanded Adam. Other shouts of scorn and ire joined his. ‘On the contrary,’ answered Robert, ‘I am suggesting that a man of William Wallace’s achievements, a man who is to be sole guardian of Scotland, bears a title befitting his prowess.’ He faced the crowd. ‘I, Sir Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick, offer William Wallace the honour of a knighthood.’ He turned to Wallace. ‘If he will bend before me. ↗

— Robyn Young

#rebellion #scotland #men