#sen

It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. It was the future, and everything sucked. ↗

— Greg Nagan

#first-sentence #first-words #humor #opening-lines #parody

I was tempted to tell her it was because we were British and actually had a sense of humour, but I try not to be cruel to foreigners, especially when they're that strung out. ↗

— Ben Aaronovitch

#humour #sense-of-humor #humor

I imagine you come across a number of people who are disconcerted by the difference between what you do feel and what they fancy you ought to feel. It is fatal to pay the smallest attention to them. ↗

— Dorothy L. Sayers

#honesty #morality #sentiments #imagination

But love like that doesn't just disappear, does it? No matter how powerful the hate, there is always a little love left, underneath. Yes. Horrible, isn't it? ↗

— N.K. Jemisin

#love #resentment #love

Pride and resentment are not indigenous to the human heart; and perhaps it is due to the gardener's innate love of the exotic that we take such pains to make them thrive". ↗

— Hope Mirrlees

#resentment #love

Esteem him! Like him! Cold-hearted Elinor! Oh! worse than cold-hearted! Ashamed of being otherwise. Use those words again, and I will leave the room this moment. ↗

— Jane Austen

#literature #love #marianne-dashwood #quote #sense-sensibility

Ha! Kids! You have no idea what you put your parents through, either. Wait till you have your own, you'll see. That's when you'll know what it really feels like." .. "What what feels like?"..."Love," said Angela. ↗

— Tess Gerritsen

#love #parenting #rizzoli-and-isles #tess-gerritsen #love

My love may be invisible, but that doesn’t mean you can’t taste it. (It tastes like a sonic boom, only not as bitter).
 ↗

— Jarod Kintz

#bitter #invisible #love #nonsense #sonic-boom

Respect doesn't come without a little resentment. ↗

— Neal Shusterman

#respect #respect

Carnal apple, Woman filled, burning moon, dark smell of seaweed, crush of mud and light, what secret knowledge is clasped between your pillars? What primal night does Man touch with his senses? Ay, Love is a journey through waters and stars, through suffocating air, sharp tempests of grain: Love is a war of lightning, and two bodies ruined by a single sweetness. Kiss by kiss I cover your tiny infinity, your margins, your rivers, your diminutive villages, and a genital fire, transformed by delight, slips through the narrow channels of blood to precipitate a nocturnal carnation, to be, and be nothing but light in the dark. ↗

— Pablo Neruda

#light #love #sensual #love