#tin

Time will come that all that we love, we will eventually lose, and all that we hate we will eventually face. ↗

— F. Sionil José

#love #love

So go, girl. We should have been one person all along, not two. ↗

— Dorothy Baker

#love #separation #twins #love

Unless we include a job as part of every citizen's right to autonomy and personal fulfillment, women will continue to be vulnerable to someone else's idea of what need is. ↗

— Gloria Steinem

#citizen #continue #else #every #fulfillment

I’ll never let go of you again,” she whispered. “I swear it. ↗

— Dianna Hardy

#holding-on #letting-go #lost-love #love #love-and-loss

In Irena’s head the alcohol plays a double role: it frees her fantasy, encourages her boldness, makes her sensual, and at the same time it dims her memory. She makes love wildly, lasciviously, and at the same time the curtain of oblivion wraps her lewdness in an all-concealing darkness. As if a poet were writing his greatest poem with ink that instantly disappears. ↗

— Milan Kundera

#drinking #forget #forgetting #love #personality

I wrote. I wrote all the things I couldn’t say to him. I wrote about how much I believed in us. I wrote about how much I trusted God. I wrote that I was praying for him. I wrote down all the jokes I could remember, which weren’t many. ↗

— Kimberly Novosel

#heartbroken #jokes #journal #journaling #writer

Instinct of love toward an object demands a mastery to obtain it, and if a person feels they can't control the object or feel threatened by it, they act negatively toward it. ↗

— Sigmund Freud

#control #instinct #love #negatively #obtain

So it comes to this: I would have lost her either way. If Cole hadn't reinfected her, I would have lost her in the hospital bed. And now Cole's wolf tozin pumps through her veins, and I lose her to the woods, like I lose everything I love. So here is me, and I am a boy watched--by her parents' suspicious eyes, since they cannot prove that I kidnapped Grace but believe nonetheless--and I am a boy watchful--because Tom Culpeper's bitterness is growing palpable in this tiny town and I will NOT bury Grace's body--and I am a boy waiting--for the heat and the fruitfulness of summer, waiting to see who will walk out of those woods for me. Waiting for my lovely summer girl. ↗

— Maggie Stiefvater

#sam #waiting #love

What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week? Or sells eternity to get a toy? For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down? ↗

— William Shakespeare

#fleeting-possession #gain #greed #dreams

They were now both ready, not to begin from scratch, but to continue with a love that had survived for thirteen years in hibernation. They were no longer travellers without baggage. They were no longer twenty. They'd both been around the block a bit and had suffered without the other. They'd both lost their way without the other.  Each had tried to find love with other people. But all that was now finished. ↗

— Guillaume Musso

#starting-over #love