#nw

As for me, I had found love, and that was a gift worth suffering for. ↗

— Juliet Marillier

#love

If it was true that moss did not have roots, and maternal love could grow spontaneously, as if from nothing, perhaps I had been wrong to believe myself unfit to raise my daughter. Perhaps the unattached, the unwanted, the unloved, could grow to give love as lushly as anyone else. ↗

— Vanessa Diffenbaugh

#the-unloved #the-unwanted #love

Imagine going to work every day to do only and exactly what you love!! All the work gets done because of the abundant diversity of your team. Different skills, interests and talents are woven together into a whole that is much greater than the sum of the parts! ↗

— Denise Moreland

#business #change #conversation #culture #employees

After the picture had been shooting for a couple of weeks, Jean had a party at his house on a Saturday night. I escorted Barbara [Stanwyck] and stayed close to her throughout the evening. I was enthralled by her and terribly attracted to her, but I couldn't tell if she returned the favor. She was friendly, but not overly so. When the party was over, I drove Barbara back to her house on Beverly Glen and took her house key to open her front door. I had to bend over to find the lock, and I only opened the door a crack. I wasn't sure how to proceed. Would she invite me in, or would she just take her key, pat me on the cheek, and thank me for a lovely evening? And then I straightened up to look at her with what I'm sure was a hopeful expression, and I saw something I hadn't seen in her eyes before. It was a magical look of interest . . . and appreciation . . . and desire. I immediately took her in my arms and kissed her. I had never had a reaction from a woman like I had from Barbara. A different kiss, with a different feeling. We went into the house; we opened a bottle of champagne; we danced. I left at dawn. ↗

— Robert Wagner

#love

Barbara [Stanwyck] was the first woman I ever loved. ↗

— Robert Wagner

#love

I will never get to tell him I love him, even if my love was never enough. The empty ache grows and throbs in my chest. It’s a living and breathing thing inside me. Sucking the air from my lungs, and the warmth from my body. The ache and pain leaves me hollow and cold. ↗

— Ashley Jeffery

#cwn-annwn #scent-hound #the-wild-hunt #love

Someday you’re gonna realize that no one on this earth will ever love you the way I do. You’ll wish you’d said the words, wish you’d had this moment back. The truth is whether you say them or not I’ll still go on loving you. Even when it hurts, even when I feel it cut me up inside and I bleed…I’ll still love you, but someday…probably sooner than either of us want it to be….someday…I’ll hate you for it.” Raylan’s words are cruel and wonderful at the same time. ↗

— Ashley Jeffery

#raylan-crawford #scent-hound #the-wild-hunt #unrequited-love #love

So I began to think maybe it was true that when you were married and had children it was like being brainwashed, and afterward you went about as numb as a slave in a totalitarian state. ↗

— Sylvia Plath

#children #marriage #marriage

He had thought more than other men, and in matters of the intellect he had that calm objectivity, that certainty of thought and knowledge, such as only really intellectual men have, who have no axe to grind, who never wish to shine, or to talk others down, or to appear always in the right. ↗

— Hermann Hesse

#men

I emphasise it now; I had little-to-nothing in common with other people. Their values I did not comprehend, their ideals were to me a living horror. Call it ostentatious but I even sought to provide tangible proof of my withdrawal from the world. I posted a sign in the entrance to the building wherein I dwelt; a sign that indicated I had no wish to be disturbed by anyone, for any purpose whatsoever. As these convictions took hold of me and, as I denied, nay even repudiated, the hold that the current society of men possesses over its ranks, as I retreated into a hermitage of the imagination, disentangling my own concerns from those paramount to the age in which I happened to be born, an age with no claim to be more enlightened, significant or progressive than any other, I tried to make a stand for the spirit. Tyranny, in this land, I was told, was dead. But I contend that the replacement of one form of tyranny with another is still tyranny. The secret police now operate not via the use of brute force in dark underground cells; they operate instead by a process of open brainwashing that is impossible to avoid altogether. The torture cells are not secret; they are everywhere, and so ubiquitous that they are no longer seen for what they are. One may abandon television; one may abandon all forms of broadcast media, even the Internet, but the advertising hoardings in every street, on vehicles, inside transport centres, are still there. And they contain the same messages. Only the very rich can avoid their clutches utterly. Those who have obtained sufficient wealth may choose their own surroundings, free from the propaganda of a decayed futurity. And yet, and yet, in order to obtain such a position of freedom it is first necessary to have served the ideals of the tyranny slavishly, thereby validating it. ("The Tower") ↗

— Mark Samuels

#advertisements #brainwashing #media #rich #society