#orr

Isn't it time that these most ancient sorrows of ours grew fruitful? Time that we tenderly loosed ourselves from the loved one, and, unsteadily, survived: the way the arrow, suddenly all vector, survives the string to be more than itself. For abiding is nowhere. ↗

— Rainer Maria Rilke

#arrow #love #sorrow #vector #love

You went back in time,” he repeated, “and you expect his cell phone to work?” “Well, no, I just, I mean, I came back and he hasn’t! Shouldn’t he have?” Morrison, very steadily, said, “Were you together?” “No! I just said he went to fight the Morrigan!” “I see.” There was a pause. “The man is seventy-four years old, Joanie. He can take care of himself. If you were,” a great and patient pause filled the line before he went on, “time traveling. If you were time traveling and got separated, then I can’t think of any reason he would necessarily come back to the present at the same time you did.” “Except I was the focal point, it was my fault, it --!” “Joanne. Siobhan. Siobhan Grainne MacNamarra Walkingstick.” I didn’t think anybody had ever said my name like that before. I gulped down a hysterical sob and whispered, “Yeah?” Morrison, with gentle emphasis, said, “I love you. Now pull yourself together and go find the bad guy,” and hung up. ↗

— C.E. Murphy

#morrison #love

The one thing you should never do to a woman, whether you make love to her or fuck her, is apologise straight after. ↗

— Dianna Hardy

#apology #couples #couples-fights #fucking #make-love

There is often grief that comes with loving, Moshe. But it is worth it. ↗

— Bodie Thoene

#sadness #sorrow #love

...I'm constantly agitated, restless - I work moments like worry beads until I see your face... ↗

— John Geddes

#love #poetry #worry #worry-beads #love

Build a little community of those you love and who love you ↗

— Morrie Schwartz

#love

Devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning ↗

— Morrie Schwartz

#love

Waste forces within him, and a desert all around, this man stood still on his way across a silent terrace, and saw for a moment, lying in the wilderness before him, a mirage of honourable ambition, self-denial, and perseverance. In the fair city of this vision, there were airy galleries from which the loves and graces looked upon him, gardens in which the fruits of life hung ripening, waters of Hope that sparkled in his sight. A moment and it was gone. Climbing to a high chamber in a well of houses, he threw himself down in his clothes on a neglected bed, and its pillow was wet with wasted tears. ↗

— Charles Dickens

#picturesque-description #sorrow #life

No. I made that choice. I let all that anger and pain get twisted up in my thoughts for you.” He leaned in. “It fucking kills me. Every night. I relive what I did to you every night.” His forehead rested against mine. “Until you,” he said softly, “I never felt truly helpless. ↗

— Nenia Campbell

#apologies #love #michael #rape #sad

Henry,' at last said one, again dipping the spoon into the flaming spirit, 'hast thou read Hoffman?' 'I should think so,' said Henry. 'What think you of him?' 'Why, that he writes admirably; and, moreover, what is more admirable - in such a manner that you see at once he almost believes that which he relates. As for me, I know very well that when I read him of a dark night, I am obliged to creep to bed without shutting my book, and without daring to look behind me.' 'Indeed; then you love the terrible and fantastic?' 'I do,' said Henry. ("The Dead Man's Story ↗

— James Hain Friswell

#eta-hoffmann #fantastic #fantastique #fear #horror