#ow

Two things you should know about me; The first is that I am deeply suspicious of people in general. It is my nature to expect the worst of them. And the second is that I am unexpectedly good with computers. ↗

— Veronica Roth

#dauntless #four #knowing-a-person #suspicious #tobias

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet. ↗

— Rumi

#each #fall #feet #finally #first

The future starts today, not tomorrow. ↗

— Pope John Paul II

#starts #today #tomorrow

The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#song

Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. Conscience is the trade-name of the firm. That is all. ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#cowardice #conscience

He was a poet; and they are never exactly grown-up. ↗

— J.M. Barrie

#barrie #children #grown-up-poetry #kesnington-gardens #london

This is how we court girls in America. We grab them and kiss them. And if they don't like it, we do it again, harder and longer, until they surrender. It saves us hours of witty repartee. ↗

— Lisa Kleypas

#christmas

Somehow, this was one oddity too many. He could accept "Mind the Gap" and the Earl's Court, and even the strange library. But damn it, like all Londoners, he knew his Tube map, and this was going too far. "There isn't a British Museum Station," said Richard, firmly. ↗

— Neil Gaiman

#london

The first lesson every child of Athena learned: Mom was the best at everything, and you should never, ever suggest otherwise. ↗

— Rick Riordan

#athena #heroes-of-olympus #hubris #mother-knows-best #mothers-and-daughters

The letter had been crumpled up and tossed onto the grate. It had burned all around the edges, so the names at the top and bottom had gone up in smoke. But there was enough of the bold black scrawl to reveal that it had indeed been a love letter. And as Hannah read the singed and half-destroyed parchment, she was forced to turn away to hide the trembling of her hand. —should warn you that this letter will not be eloquent. However, it will be sincere, especially in light of the fact that you will never read it. I have felt these words like a weight in my chest, until I find myself amazed that a heart can go on beating under such a burden. I love you. I love you desperately, violently, tenderly, completely. I want you in ways that I know you would find shocking. My love, you don't belong with a man like me. In the past I've done things you wouldn't approve of, and I've done them ten times over. I have led a life of immoderate sin. As it turns out, I'm just as immoderate in love. Worse, in fact. I want to kiss every soft place of you, make you blush and faint, pleasure you until you weep, and dry every tear with my lips. If you only knew how I crave the taste of you. I want to take you in my hands and mouth and feast on you. I want to drink wine and honey from you. I want you under me. On your back. I'm sorry. You deserve more respect than that. But I can't stop thinking of it. Your arms and legs around me. Your mouth, open for my kisses. I need too much of you. A lifetime of nights spent between your thighs wouldn't be enough. I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you've ever said to me. If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place, I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you. You would say it's too soon to feel this way. You would ask how I could be so certain. But some things can't be measured by time. Ask me an hour from now. Ask me a month from now. A year, ten years, a lifetime. The way I love you will outlast every calendar, clock, and every toll of every bell that will ever be cast. If only you— And there it stopped. ↗

— Lisa Kleypas

#hannah-appleton #love #love-letters #passion #rafe-bowman