#tree

ANOTHER TWILIGHT Allow the point of the Croccodrillo its hazy cypress trees in profile Like a rough sketch for the Isle of the Dead, as seen from yellow stucco, his Villa Igea where Lawrence finished "Sons and Lovers," wild thyme scenting olive-grove grass, crime scenery come back to more than once. Again you're mirrored in lake shadow, a white sail flaking on its turquoise wavelets, keep awake by traffic noise Along the Gardesana...and you know that this beauty's unbearable as before even if seen from its opposite shore. ↗

— Peter Robinson

#the-new-yorker #beauty

She was talking to a tree. Just talking to a tree. Totally normal. People probably did it every day here. They're only trees. She fought an insane urge to laugh. ↗

— Ruth Frances Long

#jack-o-the-forest #jenny #realm #talking #trees

There are very few friends that will lie down with you on empty streets in the middle of the night, without a word. No questions, no asking why, just quietly lay there with you, observing the stars, until you're ready to get back up on your feet again and walk the last bit home, softly holding your hand as a quiet way of saying “I'm here”. It was a beautiful night. ↗

— Charlotte Eriksson

#empty-streets #free #friendship #love #night

When we reject our origins, we become the product of whatever soil that we find ourselves planted; the colors of our leaves change as we consume borrowed nutrients with borrowed roots and, like a tree, we grow. ↗

— Mike Norton

#heritage #originality #reject #rejection #tree

Sometimes words aren't needed for you to know a change has come upon you. ↗

— Samantha Young

#change

I turned to face him, knowing in him, I'd find the temporary cure. "Do you want to fuck it out?" Braden smiled slowly, bemused, causing another twist of attraction in my gut. "Fuck it out?" "All the bullshit. What she did. What he did. Every soulless bitch that wanted something from you" His expression changed immediately, becoming hard, unfathomable, as he took a step towards me. "Are you saying you don't want anything from me?" "I want this. I want our arrangement. I want you..." I sucked in a breath, feeling my control slip. "... to fuck it out of me. ↗

— Samantha Young

#jocelyn #on-dublin-street #samantha-young #sexy #change

They should not clench their fists, it’s my longing that’s drawing me near to them; they should not stand there full of rage, my longing is timidly drawing near to them; they should not be ready to pounce like vicious dogs, as if they wanted to tear my longing to shreds; they should not threaten with broad sleeves, that pains my longing. Why have they suddenly changed? As great and deep is my longing. No matter how difficult, no matter how menacing: I must reach them and I’m already there. ↗

— Robert Walser

#the-trees #change

When I was living on the street I would be standing out in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater, leaning against my car and signing autographs and nobody had any idea that I was living in it. ↗

— Danny Bonaduce

#any #autographs #car #chinese #front

The word that came to me now was "defiant." Because a person had to be defiant to be able to stand amid the wreckage of her life and instead of shaking a fist, pick up a hammer. ↗

— Karen White

#inspirational #karen-white #the-beach-trees #courage

It was Sunday, and Mumma had gone next door with Lena and the little ones. Under the pepper tree in the yard Pa was sorting, counting, the empty bottles he would sell back: the bottles going clink clink as Pa stuck them in the sack. The fowls were fluffing in the dust and sun: that crook-neck white pullet Mumma said she would hit on the head if only she had the courage to; but she hadn't. ↗

— Patrick White

#children #fathers #fowls #mothers #recycling