#ss

Everyone knows marriage is hard work. So if you've chosen the shackles, quit whining and get on with it. ↗

— Karina Bliss

#special-forces #marriage

La tristesse durera toujours. [The sadness will last forever.] ↗

— Vincent Van Gogh

#depression #sadness #death

An unresolved issue will be like a cancer with the potential to spread into other areas of your relationship, eroding the joy, lightness, love and beauty. ↗

— Joyce Vissell

#divorce #love #relationship-issues #self-help #beauty

Something is going to happen, Laura thought. She was going to be kissed. On one side of a kiss was childhood, sunshine,innocence, toys and, on the other, people embracing, darkness, passion and the admittance of a person who, no matter how loved, must always have a quality of otherness, not only to her confidence, but somehow inside her sealing skin. ↗

— Margaret Mahy

#kiss #kissing #kissing-quotes #beauty

Mute in that golden silence hung with green, Come down from heaven and bring me in your eyes Remembrance of all beauty that has been, And stillness from the pools of Paradise. ↗

— Siegfried Sassoon

#poetry #sassoon #world-war-one #wwi #beauty

The way I see it, there is no greater spiritual beauty than fanaticism, of a sort so sincere it can only end in martyrdom. ↗

— Isabelle Eberhardt

#zealousness #beauty

Dear, sweet, beautiful girl, ↗

— Tehereh Mafi

#dystopian #love #sadness #young-adult #beauty

No sooner have you feasted on beauty with your eyes than your mind tells you that beauty is vain and beauty passes ↗

— Virginia Woolf

#christiana-rossetti #inspiration #literature #vain #victorian-literature

A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. -John Muir, naturalist, explorer, and writer (1838-1914) ↗

— John Muir

#being #connectedness #environment #existence #exuberance

He wanted to care, and he could not care. For he had gone away and he could never go back anymore. The gates were closed, the sun was down, and there was no beauty left but the gray beauty of steel that withstands all time. Even the grief he could have borne was left behind in the country of youth, of illusion, of the richness of life, where his winter dreams had flourished. ↗

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

#beauty