#sca

Even for the very clever it can be like breaking bones to stand back from something that’s been in front of you all your life. ↗

— Paul Hoffman

#bosco #break #cale #clever #even

Contrary to what we may have been taught to think, unnecessary and unchosen suffering wounds us but need not scar us for life. It does mark us. What we allow the mark of our suffering to become is in our own hands. ↗

— Bell Hooks

#love #pain #redemption #scars #suffering

You’ve gone far away to a place with no horses and very little grass, and you’re studying how to write a story with a happy ending. If you can write that ending for yourself, maybe you can come back. ↗

— Jennifer Echols

#happy-ending #horses #kentucky #new-york #stable-boy

He treasured her, treasured her tears, treasured her love for others. Her heart might even be big enough to fill that empty space in his own chest. Perhaps she could be his heart as well. ↗

— Elizabeth Hoyt

#mickey #scandalous-desires #love

He grunted and stirred, withdrawing from her. She only had a moment to be disappointed and then he flipped her to her back and rose over her, powerful and male. He casually parted her legs with his knees and thrust into her again, hot and hard. She gasped at the swift invasion, the lovely feeling, and then his face was next to hers, his big palms cradling her cheeks. “What I want,” he drawled, “is ye. Nothin’ else. ↗

— Elizabeth Hoyt

#mickey #oh-gawd-hawt #scandalous-desires #silence #love

Shit is disgusting and horrible. A lot of people and things are disgusting and horrible, and I want to be a nice person, and I am. When you are speaking about rejected people whose suffering makes them disgusting, you are speaking about shit. I do not mean that we should all eat shit and love what we can’t help rejecting. I am saying that I tried to do that, just to see if it was possible. It’s not possible. ↗

— Ariana Reines

#poetry #scatology #love

I am not afraid to die; I am only afraid of saying goodbye to you forever. ↗

— Shannon L. Alder

#dying #fear #goodbye #hope #illness

She, at least, ought to have known that he was wearing a mask, and having found that out, she should have torn it from his face, whenever they were alone together....Her love for him had been paltry and weak, easily crushed by her own pride ↗

— Emmuska Orczy

#love

Yet the roses are not less lovely for all that ↗

— Oscar Wilde

#the-picture-of-dorian-gray #love

Mickey cursed under his breath, letting his head fall back against the wall. His c*ck still beat angrily against his clothing. Once he would’ve simply sent for a whore. Now that thought was oddly unsatisfying. He could have a willing woman, a woman who would do anything he might request of her, even the most exotic acts of sex, but instead his flesh wanted just one woman. A woman who was as fierce in her maternal love as he had been as a boy in his will to survive. ↗

— Elizabeth Hoyt

#mickey #scandalous-desires #love