#tin

The celebrations Of secret nonmeetings are empty, Unspoken conversations, Unuttered words. Glances that don't intersect Don't know where to come to rest. And only the tears rejoice Because they can flow and flow. Sweetbrier around Moscow, Alas! Somehow it is here ... And all this they will call Love eternal. ↗

— Anna Akhmatova

#meetings #love

I Love cherrys alot ↗

— Cherry Hill

#love

And he likes to torment me, and laughs when I get upset when he does. No, of course not. I do not love Jack Elliot. He is low and coarse and a soldier, and not the kind of man I want to spend my life with. ↗

— Nancy E. Turner

#dating #love #men #anger

You are beholden To the truth It is the way It is the path It is your destiny To be true Is to be ↗

— Karen Hackel

#life #living #new-age #soul #true

Emily squared her shoulders and said simply, “I’m fine, I’m not really loving your social skills though. Don’t you know this is no way to start a conversation?” Emily’s mouth clamped shut at the expression on the monsters face. ↗

— Nicole Rae

#bravery #clandestine #emily-jameson #love

النسيان خطًى يبلغ المرء فى نهايتها مشارف حبّ جديد ↗

— أحلام مستغانمي

#love #sadness #love

Amal,I believe that most Americans do not love as we do. It is not for any inherent deficiency or superiority in them. They live in the safe, shallow, parts that rarely push human emotions into the depths where we dwell. ↗

— Susan Abulhawa

#emotions #emotions-love #palestinians #love

Ci eravamo incontrati perché doveva succedere, e anche se non fosse stato quel giorno, prima o poi ci saremmo sicuramente incontrati da qualche altra parte. ↗

— Haruki Murakami

#destino #destiny #love #serendipity #love

You have to let go of those feelings, Ra. Anger, fear, regret. It’s the only way you can forgive yourself and love again. ↗

— Winna Efendi

#love #anger

The clock ticks; the taunting rhythm serving as a reminder that forward is the only way we can go. The mechanical heartbeat of the darkness, a cold ellipsis, punctuating years gone by. Arising unchained. No glorious hymn, just the steady beat of the illusion of time. We heal or we carry forward the weight of our wounds... To believe otherwise is the mendacity of desperation. Arising honestly. The miles behind are littered with the weight of nostalgia, but too many miles lay ahead us to carry the weight. In the end, even echoes fade away. Pen in hand... Arising to write the next chapter. (MU Articles 2013, Dedication to Joey) ↗

— Shannon L. Alder

#forgetting-the-past #future #letting-go #life #love