#v

Always have a book to read, instead of indulging in vain conversation. Strive to learn English....Remember this, that you cannot commit some loved sin in private, and perform the work of the ministry in public, with facility and acceptance. ↗

— Christmas Evans

#gospel #ministry #love

Myself I love a thunderstorm better than anything. Sometimes I will run to the top of the hill to whirl around and around on my Indian Rock in the wind, it is like a dance I can not stop. The smell of the lightning goes into your nose and down your whole body. Old Bess says if you get hit by lightning yet live you will have special powers, well I could use some of those. So I don't care if I get hit or not. ↗

— Lee Smith

#thunderstorms #love

The smell of her hair lingered just out of reach of his memory and left him with a nervous hum resonating throughout his body like a child forced to sit in church while the sun was shining outside on a perfectly good summer's day. ↗

— Erik Tomblin

#falling-in-love #infatuation #summer #sweet-abandon #youthfulness

If a mark of affection can sometimes be taken for an insult, perhaps the gesture of love is not universal: it too must be translated from one language to another, must be learned. ↗

— Kim Thúy

#insult #language #love

It was love, the furnace into which everything was dropped. ↗

— James Salter

#love

I always feel sad for the girl that I was, because it never occurred to me that my mother might comfort me. She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did. She tended to me. She administrated me. ↗

— Gillian Flynn

#mothers #love

The lift of her heart she'd felt on the outcrop she now felt again, and it wasn't just love. She'd felt love before, known its depths when her mother died. This was something rarer. Happiness, Laurel thought, that must be what this is. ↗

— Ron Rash

#love #love

He leans down, his dark eyes simmering, and kisses me until neither of us wants to come up for air. Only the ringing of the bell tears us apart. "Damn bell," he says softly. He places his hand along the scar that rides my face from temple to chin. A slash of purple, it's never going to disappear. But it doesn't bother me. ↗

— Elsie Chapman

#kisses #love #west #love

And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant. ↗

— Paulo Coelho

#love

As he looked up at the clouds or down at the precipice, he realized that this woman was the most important thing in his life; that she was the explanation, the sole reason for the existence of those rocks, that sky, that winter. If she were not there with him, it wouldn't matter if all the angels of heaven came flying down to comfort him--Paradise would make no sense. ↗

— Paulo Coelho

#love #paulo-coelho #life